


break my bones (my heart's already in pieces)

by JaggedlyRewritten



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Child Abuse, Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil as Found Family, Families of Choice, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Mal (Disney), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaggedlyRewritten/pseuds/JaggedlyRewritten
Summary: Blood, bruises, violence—it's all they know. The Isle of the Lost was a far cry from the fairytales of Auradon. But they had to stick together, purely for survival of course.  You didn't last long on the Isle alone.The childhoods of Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay and how they became the little family we love today.
Comments: 95
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants or any of the original works.
> 
> Hey guys! This is my first Descendants story and I’m super hyped. I’ve always wondered how dark these characters and the plot could have been, and I’ve decided to explore it through writing! It’s probably going to get violent and intense so I will put the appropriate warnings in the notes before the chapters. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of assault/rape and attempted assault/rape (nothing too graphic but still present)

Cold. That’s the first thought Evie has as she begins to regain consciousness. Why is it so cold? 

Her back is stiff. Her fingers twitch involuntarily, and she feels them rub against a rough wooden surface. Her head is pounding, as if her heart has suddenly relocated itself into her skull. She wishes the voices would stop shouting, they’re only making it worse. 

Voices? 

She resists the urge to snap her eyes open, tries to keep her breathing steady. Attention means death on the Isle. 

(Attention means flaws, flaws mean imperfection, imperfection means—) 

She strains her ears, tries to focus on the argument taking place before her breathing becomes rapid. 

“—the the hell were you thinking?” a low voice growls. Low, but not quite deep. A boy, around her age if Evie has to guess. She almost thinks he sounds familiar before another voice interrupts her thoughts. 

“You saw the bruises Jay! Lying alone in that thin dress, what was I supposed to do, leave her there?” the second voice fires back. That one she knows. Carlos de Vil, the white-haired boy with dark roots and darker eyes. The boy who lives across the street from her. The boy she’s seen with red hand-shaped marks across his cheeks and black bruises across his arms. The boy who had seen her one day, starving and thrown out of her castle, weeping quietly against the wall of a back alley. The boy who had silently offered her a piece of bread and a quiet presence. Yes, she would recognize the voice of her closest and only ally anywhere. (Not friend, friends are not allowed.) 

“That’s exactly what you should have done!” the first boy shouts in return. Jay, Carlos had called him, and now Evie realizes why he sounds familiar. The resident thief of the Isle, Jay is seen but never found. Everywhere yet nowhere all at once. Smiling to your face as he slips his fingers in your pocket. Evie’s been the victim of quite a few of his tricks. Yet she’s also seen him limp out of his father’s shop after dusk when he assumes no one is watching. Occasionally Evie happens to run into him, trading sarcastic comments and witty remarks, both pointedly ignoring the stagger in his step or the ginger way she holds her side. And while they are not allies, they’ve never been enemies either. 

“You don’t mean that. You know her too, Jay, and I know you. If you’d have found her like that, _exposed_ like that, you would’ve done the same thing I—” 

“And what do you think Mal will do when she sees her?”

Her breath hitches in fear. 

She’s not given time to dwell on the rising anxiety building in her chest at the mention of that name because suddenly the room has gone quiet. 

Floorboards creak under soft footsteps as Carlos hesitantly calls out, “Evie?” 

She’s been caught, no use pretending any longer. (The longer she sits still the more exposed she is.) 

Her eyes fly open and instantly her headache intensifies as the light enters her pupils. She pushes herself up into a reclining position, palms digging into the rough wooden table beneath her as her head turns to meet Carlos’s gaze. 

The first thing she notices is how red he is. Judging by his soaking boats and his barely moving lips, as if his teeth are chattering behind them, he’s recently been out in the harsh winter weather. 

Over his shoulder she can spot Jay, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed as he observes their interaction with guarded eyes. 

“Carlos?” Evie’s gaze drifts back to the younger boy as her stomach begins to twist. Something is wrong. “What am I doing here?” 

Carlos’s shoulders relax, lowering as if he had been expecting a fight, but his eyes remain cautious. “You don’t remember anything?” 

She fights the urge to close her eyes reflexively as she tries to recall the previous events. She can’t be caught off guard. She isn’t safe here. (Carlos knows you, he’s safe—) 

(But Jay isn’t. _Mal_ isn’t. No one is safe on the Isle, not really.) 

Instead she settles for tilting her head in thought as she swings her legs over the side of the table, casually coming to a sitting position. (Easier to run if things take a turn for the worse.) 

She opens her mouth to reply that no, she doesn’t remember anything despite the growing pit in her stomach, when something coarse brushes across her leg. She looks down, sees the long tear in her dress leading up to her thigh, and memories surge back with a vengeance, flooding her mind. 

_Hands, touching her face, her arms, her hips, wandering dangerously close_ _—_

_A rough mouth on her neck, quiet threats, lips pressing against her rapid pulse_ _—_

_The sound of fabric ripping, a belt buckle being undone, desperate pleas_ _—_

_Please no, please no, please_ _—_

Evie flinches as Carlos steps closer to her. _Weak,_ a voice in the back of her mind hisses. 

Carlos seems to realize his mistake and puts his hands up gently, taking a small step backwards. His voice is soft yet firm as he tries again, “Evie? Evie, you’re okay, you’re safe.” 

Her lungs burn. She’s drowning, or maybe she’s suffocating. She can’t breathe, there’s a weight on her chest and the _hands_ , covering her mouth, holding her down, roaming her body— 

(Nowhere is safe on the Isle, no one is safe—) 

“Look at me, Evie, okay?” Carlos’s voice is distant. “Just focus on me. Breathe. In, out. See? In, out.” 

Carlos’s words are punctuated by his deep inhales and slow exhales. He’s crouched in front of her (how did she get on the floor?), one hand extended towards her and the other resting on his own chest. She tries to do what he asks, tries to concentrate on him with her blurry eyes. She inhales shakily, breathing stuttered and more of a series of strung together gasps, but the hands are retreating and there’s air in her lungs. 

“Good,” he murmurs, his chest deflating as he demonstrates another exhale. Evie mimics his movements, albeit more forced and unsteady, but it’s working _._

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring at Carlos as he intakes another lungful of air before expelling it again. Long enough for his face to come back into focus. Long enough for her lungs to start working again. Long enough for the hands to disappear entirely. 

For now. 

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks softly, his dark eyes slipping to the tear in her dress before locking back onto hers. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, a display of concern that isn’t tolerated on the Isle. 

Jay shifts behind Carlos, his eyes still guarded yet his stance open, and Evie remembers they aren’t alone. (She’s not safe. She can’t look weak.) 

Rather than respond to the question they both know the answer to, Evie replies, “It’s not what you think.” 

Carlos’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “I think it’s exactly what I think,” his voice is low, dangerous, and if Evie didn’t know that his anger wasn’t aimed towards her, she would have been sent spiraling into...whatever state she had just been in. Still, she can’t help but flinch from the growl in his voice. 

Carlos blinks at her sudden movement, his eyes softening though his jaw remains locked. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Behind him, Jay takes a step forward, remaining behind the smaller boy yet making his presence more immediate. 

“Look, we already know something serious went down. Carlos found you in the snow and dragged you in here himself. I’d say we have about ten minutes before Mal gets back, so either tell us what happened or get out because I’m not going into this blind,” Jay states bluntly. 

Evie shivers at the mention of Mal’s name and Carlos shoots Jay a look. 

“What he means is,” Carlos starts, “we want to help you, but we can’t do that until we know what happened.” 

“Help is a strong word,” Jay mutters and Carlos has the decency to look sheepish. Help isn’t approved of on the Isle. Help gets taken advantage of. Help gets you killed. 

“Nothing happened,” Evie insists, shifting her knees closer to her body. Her eyes feel glassy as she resists the pull of her memories. 

(Show no weakness, don’t let them exploit—) 

“Evie, we know what that rip in your dress means,” Carlos sighs, shuffling his crouched figure an inch closer to her. “We know what those bruises on your neck mean, too.” 

Her hands fly reflexively to her throat. Sure enough, the skin there is tender and she can feel the damage, can only imagine what it looks likes. For once, she’s glad she doesn’t have a mirror. 

(She never wants a mirror, hates them, but no, mother cannot find out, mother loves mirrors, mirrors don’t lie—) 

“Nothing happened,” Evie restates. “It...it almost did, but it didn’t. I got away.” 

She watches as Carlos’s jaw ticks, as Jay’s eyes darken behind the younger boy. She can’t read them, but they aren’t calling her names or spitting slurs at her, so she takes it as a good sign. 

(Don’t get your hopes up, they will soon. When they learn who you are, what you were raised to be—) 

“How?” Jay questions, eyebrow raised and shifting on his feet. “And what happened after?” 

“Jay,” Carlos hisses, as if the older boy had crossed a line. “Now really isn’t the time for an interrogation.” 

“We need to know exactly what happened if we have any chance of convincing Mal to let her stay here,” Jay counters in a sharp tone. 

Wait, she can’t have heard that right. 

“Stay?” she asks incredulously. 

Carlos’s lip is between his teeth and he shoots Jay another glare, which Jay returns with just as much intensity before gesturing to Evie as if saying, “This was your idea.” 

Dark eyes return to her own brown ones. “Yeah, stay. We’ve seen you, Evie. You know how to manipulate people. You have a certain way with words that the rest of us don’t; it’s impressive. You’ve even gotten Jay to talk to you in the streets. We could use that kind of persuasiveness. And I know _you_ , Evie. You’re my ally, and allies watch each other's backs. I think it’s time you were officially initiated into the gang.” 

Evie can feel her jaw drop as she takes in Carlos’s words, and the voice in the back of her mind hisses at her to not be so obvious, but she doesn’t particularly care. Gangs play a big role in Isle life, in survival. They run the streets, control the food distribution, and offer protection. Gang wars are frequent, each desperately protecting their territory while hungry for more. They look to grow their own ranks, strength in numbers, but joining a gang is tricky. Directly requesting to join practically screams weakness, that you are not strong enough to survive on your own, and you have to hope you aren't taken advantage of or killed on the spot. Demanding admittance is risky too, a fifty-fifty chance of impressing the leaders with your guts or angering them in your arrogance. Starting your own gang is difficult without the right reputation, paints a target on your back, and if unsuccessful leads to a quick-but-not-always-painless death. 

The only other option is to go it alone, showcase your skills, and hope you catch the eye of a gang member with enough influence to recruit you. Seemingly safer than the alternative forms of entry, but arguably the riskiest option considering it may never work. Loners are always looking over their shoulder, open to attack, fair game to all gangs. You didn’t last long on the Isle alone. 

No, Evie has never been daring enough to seek out a gang. Many sleepless nights she would stare into the dark sky from her balcony and wish for that kind of protection, for that sense of belonging. Being a loner will get her killed sooner rather than later. Still, she's never gotten the nerve to approach a gang, to ask for what she so desperately wants, and she's long since lost hope that she will ever earn that kind of acceptance. (They won’t see anything useful about her, she'll be dead by daylight. She’s just a pretty face, useless, useless, useless—) 

Except, now she isn’t. Now, she’s being offered a place. A place next to Carlos, a place where she’s protected. 

(They actually _want_ her? Not for her looks, but for her intellect? She won't be alone anymore?) 

Evie remembers that her mouth is hanging open and she promptly snaps her jaw shut, licking her lips nervously. “You want me in your gang?” 

Carlos nods, the corners of his lips twitching up, and Evie thinks this must be a dream. 

“Well, _we_ want you, but that’s why we need to know the whole story. We don’t make the decisions, Mal does.” 

And just like that, Jay shatters the illusion, returning her to reality. She doesn't register the underlying meaning of his words, that he also wants her in the gang, too focused on the name that comes from his lips. 

_Mal._ Flashbacks of smiling kids and loud music and a perfect party flood Evie’s eyes. Her sixth birthday. One of the best memories she has, one of the worst. Looking into sad green eyes before their owner realized she was being watched, seeing them flash in fury to distract from her weakness. Maleficent, the Mistress of Evil herself, towering over the festivities on her balcony next to the little girl with the cold glare. The subsequent banishment of Evie and her mother, the Evil Queen. 

Mal is the second biggest reason that Evie is alone. (The main reason is yourself, you’re useless, useless, useless—) 

While the reigns have loosened over the five years since their banishment, Evie and the Evil Queen are still exiled. Evie is given more freedom than her mother, allowed to visit the marketplace for necessities and spend a few hours outside of their castle while her mother is confined to their stonewalled home with a scarce monthly exploration day. Still, Evie must be castle-schooled instead of attending Dragon Hall with her would-be classmates and is met with wary hostility anytime she shows her face. She is still an outcast, a forbidden apple hanging from the tree. See, but don’t touch. The Isle inhabitants dare not disobey Maleficent’s decree lest they fear her wrath. 

The day she was banished was the day Evie lost all hope of ever joining a gang, of belonging. Though Maleficent never cares to interfere with the Isle kids’ politics, Mal is a prominent figure. Leading her own gang, while relatively new and extremely small, Maleficent’s daughter has a ruthless reputation. And she has made her hatred for Evie well-known to everyone, including the girl herself. 

No one wants to associate with a girl who is enemies with Maleficent’s daughter. 

She tries to avoid the purple-haired girl at all costs. Mal _terrifies_ her. On the rare occasion that their gazes meet, Evie is always met with flashing green eyes glaring daggers into her soul. Even more chilling is the fact that the other girl has never once spoken to her. Always a silent stare, a piercing gaze that sends shivers down her spine before Evie’s eyes dart away in fear. 

And here she is, talking with Mal’s gang members, taking shelter in what she now realizes must be their hideout. 

She is so dead. 

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat begins to skyrocket before she feels rough fingertips covering her wrists. 

“Hey, hey, Evie calm down,” Carlos says, an underlying panic in his voice at her sudden change in demeanor. 

“She’s going to kill me,” Evie manages to choke out, her eyes meeting Carlos’s before locking on Jay’s. She knows the son of Jafar is not sensitive enough of her feelings to try to give her false hope. 

“She will, _if_ we don’t vouch for you. So, you better start talking, or running,” Jay warns, though his tone isn’t threatening. He exudes nonchalance, as if he is simply stating a fact and doesn’t care either way what choice she makes. And she almost believes him, except for the curious glint in his eyes that betrays his interest. (If she didn’t know better, she’d almost say he looks concerned. But she does know better, knows that those kinds of emotions don’t exist on the Isle, and so she says nothing.) 

She wants to run. Any other day she would gladly flee if it meant not having to encounter the intimidating purple-haired girl. Except she can feel how weak she is, knows that she hasn’t eaten in days thanks to her mother’s punishment. (Too fat, Evie, you’ll never be the fairest with a body like that—) 

She figures the only thing worse than facing Mal as an uninvited guest in her own territory would be if she was found unconscious outside her hideout with no one to explain what had happened. Evie can almost hear the accusations of infiltration and foul play, can almost hear the fury in her voice. (Except she can’t, because she’s never heard the other girl speak.) 

“I was trying to pick up something valuable,” Evie admits, and she sees Jay smirk at the implications. He may be the master thief, but he isn’t the only pickpocket on the Isle. “I was about to snatch a coin pouch off one of the Gaston twins when someone bumped into me. I don’t know who he was, but when his arms came up to steady me I saw he was wearing a fancy watch.” 

She hesitates when Carlos stiffens and Jay’s lip curls, but neither comments. She feels like she’s missing something, but Jay has made it clear that time is of the essence so she continues. “He even apologized for running into me and that should have been my first clue that something was wrong.” 

Carlos growls at this and Jay clenches his fists. Apologies are unheard of on the Isle. There is no room for remorse or regret, not here. Compassion is weakness, sympathy a death sentence. 

Evie takes a deep breath, steeling herself against the memories that her next words unearth. “By the time I spotted him again he was turning into an alley. I thought maybe I could flirt his watch off of him but—” she swallows thickly, trying to maintain her composure. 

“But he turned the tables on you,” Carlos finishes for her. His eyes are darker than she’s ever seen before and his breaths are labored with barely controlled rage. Jay isn’t fairing much better behind him, his lip curling into a snarl. Evie nods. 

“H-he didn’t get far. I managed to knee him hard when he was distracted with his belt and I think I landed a hit on his face. I-I don’t really remember what happened. I ran blindly for a while, just trying to get away before I realized I was lost. The last thing I remember is black spots and the cold." 

She tries not to wince at her simplification of the story. Tries not to remember the hands and the agonizing minutes of violation before she was able to escape. Tries not to remember the feeling of blood under her fingernails as she clawed at his eyes before fleeing barefoot through the snow. Tries not to remember the pangs shooting through her stomach as her malnourished body reached its limit. Tries not to remember the paralyzing fear of not having ran far enough, of not being safe, as her knees sank into the frozen snow before everything went black. 

Evie chances a glance at the boys. She expects to see disgust, anticipates the repulsed looks as they realize how close she had come to being— 

(Your own fault, your own weakness, no one else to blame but you. You started it, you flirted, even if you didn’t want it—) 

But when she dares to look up, she’s caught off guard. The disgust, the repulsion, it’s all there, but it isn’t aimed at her. And the boys are practically _seething._

Carlos is shaking with anger and she can feel rather than hear his low, animalistic growl. His eyes are black and his lips are curled back, his bared teeth barely visible. He looks wild. 

Jay is swearing under his breath, his hands clenching into fists so tightly she thinks his nails must be cutting through his palms. His eyebrows are drawn together and combined with his tight jaw, his face becomes a threatening mask of rage. 

She doesn’t dare hope that they still want her in their gang, is about to ask if she should start running, when she hears the echo of footsteps on the stairs. (Run, leave, get out, not safe, not safe, not safe—) 

“Guys? Why are the stairs so wet—” silence floods the room as the footsteps freeze. (Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t meet her eyes, don’t look up—) 

“What the _hell_ is she doing here?” a threatening voice growls. (It sounds higher than she imagined it'd be.) 

“Mal— ” Carlos starts, but he doesn’t get far before the footsteps resume, their pace more rapid, coming closer by the second. 

“Carlos. What. The. Hell. Is. She. Doing. Here.” Mal snarls dangerously. Evie can see the girl’s black combat boots come to a stop near Carlos’s knee and _oh god she’s right in front of me, oh god, oh god_ _—_

Carlos rises from his crouched position and it’s his tone that draws her eyes from the ground to the two people in front of her. “She needs our help, Mal.” 

His voice is low, nearly as threatening as Mal’s as he meets the girl’s gaze with just as much intensity. He’s not backing down. 

Evie chances a glance at Mal while the other girl is focused on Carlos. Something flickers in her eyes and she crosses her arms. Perhaps she sees something in Carlos’s eyes or notices the difference in his voice, but whatever she sees makes her stop to reconsider her approach. 

“No one helps each other on the Isle, Carlos. I thought you knew that better than anyone,” she counters. Carlos winces as if those words mean something to him. 

“Revenge, then,” he fires back smoothly. Jay takes a step closer to the pair, forming a triangle between the three of them. 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Mal returns with a raised eyebrow before snapping her eyes to Evie’s. “Why is she here?” 

Evie is frozen under her sharp gaze. Mal’s eyes are glowing a shocking green as they bore into Evie’s. She wants to open her mouth, to explain, to say something, to _do_ something, but she can’t. She can’t talk, can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe— 

“Mal!” Carlos nearly shouts, and the girl’s eyes go back to their normal color before locking on the younger boy. “You’re scaring her.” 

“Good, she should be scared. I don’t know if you remember but she’s _banished_.” Mal emphasizes. 

“Hear us out, okay? We—” Jay starts, but Mal interrupts him. 

“We? You’re both in on this then?” 

Jay’s mouth snaps shut, his twitching jaw the only indication that Mal isn’t the only one aggravated. 

“I want Evie to join the gang,” Carlos blurts out. 

Deathly silence. Jay’s eyes widen in shock before he smacks Carlos’s shoulder. If Evie has to guess, she’d say that was not how they were planning their big reveal. 

Mal has gone completely still. Slowly her eyes raise to meet Carlos’s as she growls menacingly, “You what?” 

Carlos’s eyes flicker to Jay’s before returning to Mal’s. “She has skills that could really be usefu;—” 

“I don’t care what skills she—” 

“Just listen to me for a second—” 

“This is not up for—” 

“Mal!” Jay’s yell reverberates off the walls. Mal and Carlos spare one last heated glance at each other before focusing on the eldest boy. 

“Look at her dress,” Jay says, his voice quiet yet firm, leaving no room for argument. 

Mal scoffs, as if her mind is already set and the request is irrelevant, but nevertheless she turns her head to look at Evie. 

Evie nearly flinches under her scrutiny. The only reason she hasn’t immediately averted her gaze is the fact that Mal’s eyes are not meeting her own but rather examining her dress. 

Which is why she doesn’t miss the way Mal’s breath catches as her eyes find the tear. 

The smaller girl’s hands clench into fists before relaxing again, but her eyes flash with that terrifying bright green glow as something in her face shifts. 

Evie doesn’t know if her situation has just been made better or worse (part of her is scared to find out). Instead, she lets her gaze flicker over to the boys. 

Carlos is watching Mal with sad eyes, any previous anger he had harbored gone. Jay’s arms aren’t crossed anymore and his own eyes seemed to have lost their edge. Neither boy speaks, waiting for their leader to make the first move. 

Mal’s jaw tightens. “Names,” she demands. Her voice is low, still as threatening as ever, but for the first time those threats don’t seem to be directed at Evie. 

The last thing Evie wants to do is draw attention to herself, but she opens her mouth anyway to inform the other girl that she doesn’t know who it was. (Years of banishment don’t leave much room for socialization.) But Carlos beats her to it. 

“It was him,” he says quietly, eyes dropping to the floor before flickering back to Mal, who is still staring at the rip in Evie’s dress. She gives a curt nod and Evie thinks she sees something akin to pain flash in the girl’s green eyes before the emotion is washed away with fury. (It feels so similar to another memory of birthday parties and balconies, yet so different.) 

“Stay here with the princess,” Mal tells Carlos, and while it’s an order, it feels more like a request. Her gaze still hasn’t left the tear when her voice turns dark, snarling, “Jay, with me.” 

Jay nods wordlessly, his own face reclaiming its hardened, angry mask. Mal turns on her heel, not sparing Evie a second glance as she strides back the way she came. 

As she’s rounding the corner to the stairs, Mal’s voice rings out, “When I get back, we’ll talk.” And then she’s gone, taking Jay with her. 

Carlos sighs, though Evie can’t tell if it’s from sadness or relief, before turning to her with a smile. “This is good. This is good for you.” 

“Didn’t sound very promising,” she breathes out, feeling a little more comfortable as she’s left alone with her one ally. 

“Trust me, Mal doesn’t relent often. The fact that she’s even considering it, after your past...history,” Carlos winces at his choice of words, “means that we’ve already won half the battle. I have a feeling you’re going to be the fourth horseman.” 

Evie tries to return his enthusiastic smile but her stomach twist as dread creeps into her bones. She turns to look at the entrance leading to the stairway. She hesitates (should she push her luck?) before asking, “Why was she so...” (Protective isn’t the right word. It’s not.) 

Carlos grimaces as he too glances back at the direction Mal and Jay had gone before his eyes settle back on hers. “The guy who assaulted you. Anthony Tremaine. We know him.” 

The name rings a distant bell in her mind but that isn’t what has her concerned. No, what worries her is the tight draw to Carlos’s brow and the way his fists shake by his side. 

“You asked why she was so...” Carlos makes a vague hand motion in the air and Evie can only nod in response. The dread is coiling tighter, gripping her lungs, her heart. 

“Mal’s met him before. But she wasn’t lucky enough to get away.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m back and I'd like to thank all of you who showed me support over the first chapter! I’m really enjoying making this series so far and I have a lot of ideas for it. If you have any requests or prompts, feel free to let me know, but I can’t make any promises. Oh, and if you leave a comment I’ll try to reply back, I love interacting with people and talking about our favorite villain kids!
> 
> Also as a side note, I edited the first chapter a little. Nothing too drastic, just replacing some words or fixing typos, hopefully small details that make it easier to read. And now onto the story! 
> 
> Warnings: Violence, nothing too graphic yet though ;)

The sun hangs low in the sky, day giving way to dusk. Only a few more minutes, then. Carlos peeks around the wooden crate just outside the entrance of the warehouse, his low whistle cutting through the air. He figures Mal and Jay must have heard him when he sees the shadows inside the upper level flicker before going still again. He smirks. (Like clockwork.) 

He hears a sharp inhale behind him and turns to Evie whose mouth is set in a grim line despite her pale face. (Well, almost like clockwork. They just have to fit in another gear.) 

It’s been two days since Mal reluctantly initiated Evie into the gang. Two days since Carlos had found Evie face-down in an alley. Two days since Mal and Jay had marched back into their hideout in the dead of night, having left hours prior, with blood on their hands and rips in their clothes.

* * *

_Carlos stands from his spot on the floor as his companions stride into the main room, sharing a glance with Evie who is resting on the cracked leather sofa behind him. She’s biting her bottom lip, eyebrows drawn together in worry, whether for the pair’s physical well-being or for her own fate, Carlos isn’t sure. (He thinks it’s both.)_

_His allies are looking worse for wear. A multitude of bruises run along the length of Jay’s jawbone and a bloody cut travels the length of his forearm. It doesn’t look too deep but it’s long enough to cause problems. His walk slows but doesn’t stop as he meets Carlos’s eyes, his gaze traveling to Evie’s figure on the couch before resettling on Carlos. An unspoken question._

_Carlos nods as he clasps his fiddling hands behind his back. (She knows.) Jay gives a nearly imperceptible nod and turns away._

_Mal goes to drag a rusted metal chair to the center of the room. Carlos can see the gash across her forehead from here. She’s limping, favoring her left side though she’s hiding it extremely well. He catches sight of a tear in the calf of her pant leg, the purple made darker by the red blood seeping through the fabric. The chair makes a loud clang in the silent room as she drops it unceremoniously on the ground before swiftly straddling it in one fluid motion. Her arms hang lazily over the back and Carlos has a clear view of her bruised and bloody knuckles. (Whether all the red belongs to her or somebody else, he doesn’t know.) She doesn’t look at him, instead fixating on her hands. The epitome of indifference._

_He glances between the purple-haired girl and Jay, who has taken up residency leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed. Neither he nor Mal says a word. The silence is deafening. (Silence is never good.)_

_“Is he...” Carlos trails off. He’s seen his allies look far worse, sporting heavy injuries and heavier hearts. Still, he can’t help but wonder how their fight had faired. (What is he hoping the outcome would be? What had_ Mal _been hoping the outcome would be?)_

 _“He is. Not for long of course,” Jay’s last sentence is more of a scoff and Carlos grimaces. No one ever really dies on the Isle. Aside from the few unlucky exceptions (or were_ they _the lucky ones?) Magic that goes so directly against nature is bound to have some...repercussions, after all. Carlos shakes those unpleasant thoughts from his mind._

_He nods silently, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, they have gotten revenge (not justice, justice doesn’t exist) for both Mal and Evie. On the other hand, they have to be ready for future retaliation and the possibility of a gang war. Not to mention one of his allies (not friends, never friends, not allowed) has just killed someone._

_(It wouldn’t be the first for either of them, but Carlos still knows the weight that action holds.)_

_He wants to ask. Wants to know who did it. How to help, what he can do. (Order. I need an order.)_

_His mouth opens as he turns to Mal, but the words die on his tongue when he realizes she’s been staring at him, eyebrow quirked and a humorless smirk gracing her lips. His teeth clack as he snaps his jaw shut. So not Jay. (Really, he should’ve known. This was Mal’s kill from the start.)_

_Evie shifts on the sofa behind him and he sees her straighten from the corner of his eye as Mal’s gaze locks on her. Green meets brown._

_“So,” Mal drawls, spreading her hands in a faux grand gesture, revealing more red coating her palms. There’s a wicked gleam in her eye and her smile holds no warmth. “You still want to join our gang?”_

* * *

Carlos shakes his head. The plan, right. This is Evie’s first raid. Mal asked him to show her the ropes and “make sure she doesn’t get in the way.” She may have accepted Evie into the gang but she makes her cold feelings towards the girl very clear. (Still, it had gone better than Carlos could have hoped for, so he counts it as a win.) 

He checks the position of the sun (it’s just disappeared under the horizon) before turning to a pale Evie. “It’s a quick run, okay? Just remember the plan. In and out.” (And if his words echo those of a few days ago, bring back memories of burning lungs and concerned eyes, neither of them mention it.) 

She nods, clutches the broken knife Jay had given her for protection. If Carlos had observed the exchange before they left the hideout, had noticed that the gesture left Jay himself defenseless, he doesn’t say anything. While their gang is feared, it’s still the smallest and newest of the Isle. Mal’s ruthless reputation and her bloodline only got them so far. Supplies, food, weapons—all are hard to come by on the Isle. (All require bloodshed.) 

He waits for the signal from Mal and Jay, staying crouched behind the wooden crate outside the warehouse. They’re in Uma’s territory on the west side of the Isle. It’s one of her smaller outposts, a two-story warehouse that constitutes more as a glorified shed, really, and closer to the mainland than her other coastal territories. A relatively safe target that provides the opportunity for Evie to learn the group dynamic (and Mal could never pass up an opportunity to antagonize her rival.) 

He hears a dull thud before Mal’s whistle rings out in response to his own. He lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He signals to Evie before creeping around the crate and into the dark warehouse. He chances a look up. Mal is throwing a dusty tarp over an unconscious body. Jay is keeping watch in the rafters, his watchful eyes scanning the entry points and roaming over the layout of the building. 

Carlos begins to pick over the shelves, looking for anything useful. He grabs a metal pole leaning against the wall on his left. There’s a piece of fabric attached to one end of it and as he runs his fingers over the worn and dirty material, he realizes it’s the flag of Auradon. He growls as he rips the faded blue and yellow material from the pole (goodness has no place on the Isle), tossing it aside before grasping the metal stick. It’s slightly shorter than he is, one end jagged as if someone had broken the pole in half. He gives it a twirl around his fingers. (Yeah, he can work with this.) 

With his newly acquired weapon in one hand, he resumes searching through the shelves. He spots Evie opening a small chest on the other side of the warehouse and Carlos can’t help the small smirk that makes its way onto his face. He’s known Evie since before he joined Mal’s gang and it only feels right to finally have her by his side along with the only other two people he trusts on this forsaken island. 

He glances to the roof, sees Jay’s watchful eyes gleaming above. Mal is somewhere in the shadows, likely slipping valuables into her pockets as she covers their backs on the ground. They’ve had to change their normal entry strategy to incorporate Evie and while it’s new, it’s not entirely foreign. In fact, it feels almost too easy— 

Jay’s frantic piercing whistle rings out and Carlos instinctively swings his new staff behind him as he turns in a low crouch. He hears the metal crack against bone and a pained howl reaches his ears. There’s a boy a few years older than him lying on the floor holding his shin, the bone protruding from his skin. He hears clapping from the entrance of the warehouse and freezes. Suddenly he’s not in the warehouse anymore. (Good boy, Carlos. Good boy, you wouldn’t want to upset mommy would you—) 

A flash of turquoise hair and the glint of a metal hook stop his spiraling and there’s a female voice dripping with mock pity, “Now you didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” 

And then everything goes to hell. 

The warehouse floods with members of Uma’s crew, Harry’s maniacal laughter echoing with their footsteps. There’s a pained gasp to his right and he sees Evie’s arm dripping blood before her broken knife buries its way into her target’s thigh. He hears Jay drop from the rafters to the upper story, the sound of a fist making contact with soft flesh. He doesn’t have time to locate Mal before another lackey rushes at him. Carlos ducks under the boy’s punch and swings his own arm upward. It connects with the boy’s chin and he goes tumbling into a shelf, knocking it over. The domino effect is instantaneous, rows of shelves toppling each other over, adding to the chaos breaking out all around him. He has to get to the others. 

He’s barely taken a step forward before a girl with brown hair tied back in a bandana blocks his path, swinging her sword down towards his neck. He lifts the pole up in a hasty block. Her sword slides down the rounded staff and slices his hand. He lets out a grunt of pain and drops the metal from his right hand before, in the blink of an eye, his left is fluidly snatching it from its free fall and soaring towards the girl’s side. She blocks his blow as he hears footsteps closing in on him from behind. 

Before he has time to devise a plan, a rush of air from above causes a knowing smirk to appear on his face. (Gotcha.) 

As he hears the sound of glass shattering behind him, Carlos grips his pole like a bo staff and swings the bottom of it out towards the girl’s ankle. He anticipates her block and as her sword drops low he flips the top of his staff towards her head. His hands vibrate as the metal connects with the girl’s temple and she crumples to the ground. 

He turns in time to see Mal standing from her crouched position, the broken neck of a bottle clutched in her hands. The boy she’s standing over, who she had unceremoniously landed on after swinging herself over the second-floor railing, is unconscious below her, the shards of broken glass resting near his head. Mal gives Carlos her signature smirk before turning to their next attacker. 

They fight their way over to the center of the warehouse where they find Jay grappling with a boy twice his size and Evie fending off a pirate who’s taking deadly swipes at her with a knife. Jay’s caught in a headlock when— 

“Jay!” Mal shouts as she tosses the remnants of her bottle towards the older boy. His arms are straining as he pulls against the other boy’s arm on his throat and his eyes snap open at the sound of Mal’s voice. His hand darts out and snatches the sharp bottle neck from the air before he swings his arm down and back, jamming the glass into his captor’s side. 

The other boy releases Jay from his grip and he shouts in pain before Jay whips around and lands a hard punch to his face. He’s out cold. Jay meets them in the middle of the warehouse, the three of them falling into their familiar formation. (Two down, one to go.) 

His eyes scan the chaos for a streak of blue when he sees her, a well-placed kick sending her opponent tripping backwards and slamming his head into the wall. Evie turns and flashes a brief smile at him before rushing to join their little triangle. 

Their natural formation has to adjust to account for a fourth member and Carlos briefly wishes they had gone over combat strategies back at the hideout. Their quiet stealth operation has turned into a free-for-all. (They could never catch a break, could they?) 

They need an escape plan, and fast. Mal shouts something to Jay but Carlos can hardly concentrate on their conversation. His metal staff is slick with the blood from his hand as he blocks another sword swing. He catches the words “window” and “upstairs” and “cover you” before he hears the sound of a body drop and Jay is tugging on the back of his jacket. Carlos knocks the weapon out of a pirate’s hand as he heeds Jay’s pull and falls into step behind the son of Jafar as they sprint towards the back of the warehouse. Evie falls in step next to him as they follow Jay to the second level. 

“This way!” Jay pants as they turn left and head for a window. They’ve almost reached it when a shrill laugh pierces the air. They skid to a stop and glance over the railing to see— 

Mal is still in the center of the warehouse, surrounded by Uma’s pirate crew. Harry’s behind her, keeping her arms restrained as he kicks her legs out, bringing her to her knees. 

“Cover you,” she had said. Carlos kicks himself for not realizing sooner, for not remembering her previous words. 

(You have to remember, Carlos, good boys remember—) 

“Well, well, well, what a nice surprise,” Harry drawls. His boot comes down hard on Mal’s injured calf and she winces as the wound reopens, blood trickling onto the floor. 

Uma stands over Mal, sword in hand as her gaze snaps to the three of them on the upper floor. Evie clutches the handle of her knife tighter as Uma’s eyes narrow on her. 

“And what do we have here?” 

A smile makes its way onto Uma’s lips as she recognizes the blue-haired girl. She bends closer to Mal, “Are you going soft on us, Mal? I thought no one crossed the daughter of Maleficent and lived to tell the tale.” 

Mal snarls at the pirate captain, “I do what I want.” 

Harry laughs from behind her, his hook coming up to caress her cheek before sliding down her jaw to her chin where he applies pressure, forcing her to look up at him. “Feisty today, aren’t we Mal?” his accent is thick and his eyes are unhinged. 

Uma toys with the tip of her sword, asking in faux concern, “And what will mother dearest say when she realizes her own daughter is disobeying her orders?” 

Carlos sees Mal’s shoulder tense imperceptibly at the hidden threat (his own do as well at the mention of her mother), but she stands her ground, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I would,” Uma says lazily, before her pout is overtaken by a cold fury. “But it’s too bad you’ll be lying on the bottom of the ocean before I get to tell her.” 

Uma’s sword raises in the air as Harry’s maniacal laughter echoes around the warehouse and Carlos is already climbing onto the railing because he’ll be damned if Mal dies on his watch and— 

(Guard dog, be a good boy Carlos. Don’t fail your duties, be a good boy—) 

There’s a shriek of pain as Uma’s sword clatters to the floor. Carlos whips his head to the side to see Evie breathing heavily, her arm extended and her hand empty, her knife buried in the palm of Uma’s hand. Mal’s free leg kicks back with a loud crack as it connects with Harry’s kneecap and she scrambles to her feet. 

“Go!” she yells at them as she takes off towards the main entrance of the warehouse where Carlos and Evie had originally come from. They don’t need to be told twice. 

Jay rushes to the window, sliding it open as he ushers them over. There’s a deep pile of snow beneath the windowsill and Carlos doesn’t think twice before launching himself out of the building. The snow breaks his fall and he clambers to his feet as Evie tumbles out after him. Carlos hears the window fall shut above them as Jay lands in a cloud of white. 

Mal comes rushing around the corner towards them seconds after, hauling Evie to her feet as they sprint back towards their hideout, the angry cursing of a moody pirate and the furious wails of the daughter of the sea witch trailing behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m back with another chapter! I feel like I've been nonstop writing for the last couple days because I have so many ideas and stories I want to explore. I’m starting to realize that this fic has turned more into a continued story than a series of one-shots so I'm tempted to change the summary, but I don’t really have a solid plot that I'm following. It’s more of just the backstory of the VKs, moments of pain that forge them into a family, though I do have a vague outline of where I'm headed. So, I'm not sure if I should change the description or not. If you guys have any suggestions for that I'd love to hear them!
> 
> Warnings: Child abuse, it's getting a little darker now

“A good haul today, right Mal?” Carlos asks from the foot of her bed, flashing a smile at her. The girl in question lays on her small mattress, lazily sketching a castle on a torn and wrinkled piece of paper. She taps the burnt piece of charcoal (art supplies aren’t exactly available on the Isle) against her chin, not realizing she’s smudged her skin black, before looking up at him. 

“Really good, Carlos,” Mal says with a rare smile. She has a soft spot for the younger boy, though she would never admit it. She has a reputation to uphold after all. 

Jay is laying on the floor across the room, casually flipping a coin in the air, occasionally rolling it across his fingers. “We have enough food to last us at least four days, so I'd say we did better than good. Your intel was solid, Carlos,” he says it nonchalantly but Mal can hear the underlying tone of excitement in his voice. They won’t go hungry for once, and Jay always performs better on a full stomach. (More goods for Jafar, less beatings for him.) 

Carlos grins at the praise and Mal’s heart pangs at how innocent he looks. It’s easy to forget that Carlos is just nine years old, a whole two years younger than the rest of them. She lets her eyes linger on the boy, taking in the bruises and scars that she knows aren’t from their recent exploit, and has to suppress the growl building in her throat. (She doesn’t care. She doesn’t.) 

“Well it wasn’t all me. If Evie hadn’t spotted the loose brick on the side of the building, I never would have found the tunnel,” Carlos shoots a smile at the blue-haired girl while Jay lets out an appreciative whistle and a short burst of claps. 

Evie blushes at the attention, sitting on the floor a few feet away from Carlos, toying with the clasp of her red heart necklace. It’s been a week since she joined their little band of misfits, five days since the raid on Uma’s warehouse. 

Mal would rather die than say she’s slowly beginning to tolerate the other girl’s presence, but she has to admit, Carlos was right. Evie brings several useful skills to the table. She can sew, which translates into the ability to perform stitches, a fact they found out after the raid. Mal absentmindedly runs her fingers over the jagged sutures on her calf. It’s the first time Evie has ever attempted to sew something other than fabric and while the stitches are rough, they hold. 

She also has impeccable precision, an eye for detail that she says results from her mother’s countless beauty lessons. Another skill she had unintentionally showcased at the raid. Mal remembers hastily thinking through all her options as the glint of Uma’s sword raised high above her head. She remembers her own jolt of surprise as a knife was suddenly protruding through the other girl’s hand. She remembers glancing to the upper floor as she escaped Harry’s grasp and seeing Evie wide-eyed, as if she herself was shocked at what she had just done. 

And last but not least, no one can deny Evie’s way with words. Jay is a smooth-talker but his reputation can override his charm, like a snake. It’s pretty but you know there’s a catch. Mal is an intimidation expert, stringing words together in deadly threats. But Evie is a master manipulator. Her body language, her silky voice, her sly smiles, all easily gain the trust of her victims. She can bat her eyes and have just about anything she wants. And while she hasn’t had time to test her theory yet, Mal thinks the other girl would make a good mediator at gang negotiations. 

Yes, Evie is a useful addition to their group. And while Mal is far from friendly towards her, has not forgotten the way she’d been slighted five years ago, she is tolerating Evie’s existence. (It’s not forgiveness. It’s not.) 

Evie is still blushing when her eyes meet Mal’s by accident, and the purple-haired girl smirks at the way Evie’s breath catches in fear as her face drains of all color. (She’s still allowed to have a little fun, right?) Mal quirks her eyebrow at her and the other girl quickly looks away. 

Mal opens her mouth to ask Jay how much he thinks they can get for the busted golden cup resting in Carlos’s lap before the gates to the castle swing open violently, the sound of metal clashing against stone echoing all the way to her room. 

“Mal!” 

Mal freezes. (That tone can only mean one thing—) 

Jay drops his coin and Carlos scrambles to his feet as Evie’s eyes widen. Mal snaps out of her daze as her instincts kick in. 

(Must protect, _she_ can’t have—) 

(They are _mine_ —) 

Mal hauls a frozen Evie to her feet (this is a regular thing now, isn’t it?) before ushering them all to the broken glass doors of her balcony. “Go, go, go,” Mal whispers hastily as Jay shoots her a worried gaze. 

“What about you?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together in concern. 

“I’ll be fine,” she lies (god, she wishes it wasn’t a lie). “Now move.” 

Jay hesitates as Carlos climbs onto the edge of the stone wall surrounding her balcony, reaching for the vines growing on the outside of the castle. His dark eyes meet hers and she sees the growing sadness in them along with something that looks like regret (or is it shame?) as he begins to climb down. 

Evie is on the balcony too, staring at her in fear, though for once Mal isn’t the source of the girl’s terror. Something flashes in her brown eyes (it’s not sympathy, it's not). After a moment of hesitation, Evie follows after Carlos and a feeling of relief washes over Mal. (She doesn’t care. She doesn’t.) 

But Jay is still in the doorway and a fire lights in his eyes as he opens his mouth— 

(Footsteps storming up the stairs, the crack of the scepter meeting stone steps, she’s getting closer, she’s almost here, and he isn’t _moving—_ ) 

(Protect, protect, protect—) 

Mal shoves him out the door and slams it shut, pulling the dark purple curtains together just before— 

Her bedroom door flies open behind her and Mal’s muscles tense as the wood smashes against the wall. She closes her eyes, clenches her fists (you aren’t weak, you aren’t), before she forces her eyes open as she turns around. 

Maleficent is striding across the room, black cloak billowing behind her, scepter in hand. Her eyes glow a menacing green as she crosses the room and takes her daughter’s face in her hand, gripping her chin tightly. 

“Tell me it isn’t true,” she snarls, her fingers bruising Mal’s jaw. 

Mal wants to melt into the floor, feels like falling down and begging for forgiveness for whatever she’s done to disappoint her mother this time. But she stands her ground and wills her knees not to tremble as she meets Maleficent’s glaring eyes with her own. (No weakness, weakness makes it worse.) 

“I don’t know what you’re—” 

Mal is cut off by a vicious backhand, falling to the ground from the force. (It was a fun two seconds of bravery while it lasted.) 

“Liar,” Maleficent hisses as Mal scrambles to her feet. (Staying down is weakness.) “I heard a nasty rumor that you’ve been running around with Evil Queen’s girl.” 

Mal tries not to let her fear show on her face. Uma and Harry carried out their threat after all. Mal almost wishes they’d killed her. 

“I’m not—” another backhand sends Mal staggering backwards. She can feel her lip split from the blow but she doesn’t fall this time. 

“You know, I thought I raised you better, Mal,” Maleficent sneers. “What did I say? If you can’t sell the lie, don’t speak at all.” 

She starts to stalk forward before something on the floor catches her eye. A cold smile spreads across her face. “What’s this?” Maleficent bends down to grasp a small silver chain on the floor. “I wonder who this belongs to?” 

Evie’s red heart necklace. The charm shines as it dangles from Maleficent’s fingers. Mal stays silent, arranging her face into an emotionless mask even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest. (Checkmate.) 

Maleficent’s smile slides off her face, replaced by a look of mock pity. It looks twisted in contrast to the dark gleam in her eyes. She snarls lowly, “You insolent little girl.” 

Mal’s breath hitches as Maleficent closes the distance between them. Her mother’s nails dig into her arm as she’s dragged out of her room and down the stairs and her stomach drops as she realizes where they’re headed. She has to fight the urge to dig her heels into the stone beneath her. (Fear is weakness, emotions are weakness. You aren’t weak. You aren’t.) 

Maleficent wrenches open the door to the dungeon, marching down another set of stone stairs as she pulls Mal along behind her. Mal shivers as they reach the bottom of the staircase, the temperature dropping. 

Carved into the wall on her left are a few small cells, the bars as dark as she remembers them, and she can barely make out the chains attached to the back wall of each chamber. She flinches as she recalls the last time she was down here, the last time her mother was this angry. The cold of the dungeon wall, the unrelenting heat from the chains, the growls of her empty stomach. She expects her mother to throw her into her old prison, to chain her up as she had last time. 

So her heart stops when Maleficent turns away from the cell and marches to the center of the room. (She wouldn’t, she’s never...it’s always been a threat but she’s never—) 

“You dare disobey me?” Maleficent’s voice is deadly calm and Mal knows she's screwed. Calm Maleficent is always worse than roaring Maleficent. It means her anger exceeds that of simple words (means the pain will be worse). 

“You dare defy my orders in public, for the whole Isle to see?” 

They’ve reached the center of the dungeon where three iron chains hang from rusted loops in the ceiling, shackles on the ends of each. The metal reflects the bright green burning in Maleficent’s eyes. Mal lands on her knees as Maleficent throws her to the ground. Her mother wraps her hand in her cloak before yanking the middle chain down. Mal can feel the searing heat of the iron from her spot on the floor. Evie’s necklace is thrown in front of her. 

“You dare _forgive_ that wretch who made a fool of you?” 

The metal collar clamps around Mal’s neck and a yelp of pain escapes her lips as the iron digs into her skin. It’s burning, _scorching—_

“Weak,” Maleficent snarls, venom coating her voice, and Mal bites her lip to prevent any more sound from escaping. (You aren’t weak. You aren’t.) These chains are the same as the ones on the cell wall, she can do this, she can— 

Maleficent yanks on the other end of the chain and Mal lets out a strangled cry (don’t scream, don’t scream) as the chain tightens and she’s dragged violently to her feet, the iron pressing harder against her neck. 

“I thought I was teaching you how to be me.” 

Her left wrist is engulfed in flames as the second shackle snaps shut. 

“I thought you were to become truly evil.” 

Her right wrist is burning (does she even have hands anymore?) She can do this though, it’s just like the cell (she’s not weak, she not) she can— 

“But I was wrong.” 

And then her mother _pulls_ and Mal’s heels leave the floor, the tips of her toes just barely keeping contact with the floor and— 

(This is _not_ like the cell.) 

The metal sears itself into her skin as her full weight is taken by the chains and Mal _screams._

(Burning, blistering, scalding, scorching, _pain—_ ) 

“Never cross me again.” 

She feels her mother’s scepter slam into her back (oh, now this is a familiar punishment) and briefly she wishes she hadn’t taken off her trusty leather jacket earlier, her thin shirt doing little to shield her from the jagged wood. Her eyes focus on Evie’s necklace as she holds back tears (you aren’t weak, you aren’t). She bites her lip so hard she tastes blood (don’t scream, not again). Her body radiates pain. 

“Foolish.” 

Her back rips. 

“Worthless.” 

Her wrists burn. 

“Weak.” 

Her neck is fire. 

“Disappointment.” 

(She doesn’t care. She doesn’t.) 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank everyone for their support of the last chapter! It was my favorite to write so far, I love getting to tap into Mal’s head and the way she loves her group despite not being allowed to love. Side note, I realized that my spacing was showing up way too far apart and not how I intended it to be, so I went back and fixed that for the previous chapters. Also, whenever I copy and paste my work onto AO3, there's always added spaces, especially before and after italicized words, so if anyone has had the same problem before or knows why that's happening and could let me know how I can fix it, that'd be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys the update!
> 
> Warnings: Mention of assault/rape

Thunder rumbles outside as a flash of lightning cuts across the night sky. Sleet is pounding against the window and Jay can hear the wind howl through the silence of the hideout. The weather outside matches the mood within. 

Jay is sitting against the wall, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He doesn’t need to open them to know what the others are doing. Last he checked, Carlos was still sitting on the windowsill, knees pulled to his chest and watching the storm brewing outside while Evie was rearranging their stash of food for the hundredth time. They’ve been like that for the past hour. And the hour before that. And the hour before that. 

Six days. It’s been six days since they left Mal at her castle. She’s never been gone more than three. Jay shudders as he represses the memory of the last time Mal had been away longer than expected. (It’s been twice as long, will her scars be twice as worse?) 

They have a contingency plan for times like these. (Times where their parents beat them into submission or lock them in closets. Times where their bodies are too broken to meet with the others.) But even so, the pebbles that they’ve thrown every night against Mal’s glass balcony doors have gone unanswered. Her whistle has yet to sound from her room, the castle eerily quiet. (Her punishment is still taking place.) 

Jay hears a frustrated sigh and peers an eye open to see Evie slam the last soup can on top of their stockpile before standing from her spot on the floor. She turns to him with fire in her eyes. 

“It’s been six days.” 

“I’m aware,” Jay replies casually, ignoring the growing pit of worry building in his stomach and the burning rage he can feel in chest. 

Evie begins to pace and Carlos spares them a glance before turning back to the window. Despite his indifferent demeanor, Jay knows the other boy is listening intently. 

“We need a plan,” Evie mutters. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and her fist is pressing against her lips as she thinks. 

“We can’t just break her out, Evie. Going directly against Mal’s mom doesn’t end well, you know that better than anyone,” Jay sighs. How he wishes they could rebel against their parents. Make them feel a fraction of the pain that they feel (that _he_ feels) on a daily basis. 

“I’m not talking about Maleficent,” Evie counters. 

She doesn’t stutter over the name and briefly Jay is almost proud of her. Evie can hardly even look in Mal’s direction without her eyes widening or her breath catching, let alone talk about the Mistress of Evil herself. 

His eyes narrow and he straightens against the wall as he takes in her words. Evie isn’t pacing anymore, looking straight at him. Her eyes take on a mischievous, borderline dangerous shine. Behind her, Carlos turns his attention away from the window, his arms unwrapping from his knees. 

“We can’t do anything about Mal,” Evie says softly. (Helplessness, he knows the feeling all too well.) “But Uma and Harry? I think we owe them a little visit.” 

Jay can’t help but smirk. Evie has been full of surprises, though he assumes he really shouldn’t have expected anything less. She’s always been cunning, even managing to swipe a few of his own possessions from time to time. Of course, that had stopped after he joined Mal’s gang a year ago, the girl keeping her hands far from his pockets whenever they crossed paths. 

She’s always been one of the only people on the Isle whose company he appreciates, even before she joined their band of misfits. Neither of them close enough to show their true emotions yet neither of them hostile enough to consider the other an enemy. They would walk in comfortable silence or trade sarcastic remarks, always ignoring their deeper issues yet aware of them all the same. It was nice. (And if Jay happened to slip an apple into her pocket every now and then, well no one needed to know.) 

Looking at her now, he understands why Carlos wanted her in the gang so badly. She isn't as intimidating as Mal or as quick as Carlos or as sly as himself, but she is just as dangerous. Pretty and unassuming on the surface but with a raging fire underneath. Daring you to let her in and promising to wreak havoc once you do. (Poison. She’s like poison.) 

Carlos slides off the windowsill and Jay rises to his feet. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I’ve just been thinking,” Evie says with a wave of her hand as she turns away from them and paces a few steps. “I learned a valuable lesson five years ago and I think it’d be selfish of me to keep it to myself.” 

The pacing stops and she turns to them with a dark smile and a gleam in her eyes. 

“If you play with fire, you’re going to get burned.” 

* * *

An hour later Jay finds himself on the west coast of the island standing atop an old rusted water tower. He fights back a shiver as the sleet pounds against his skin and quietly he hopes the weather won’t undermine their plans. He hears a low whistle, barely audible above the thunderstorm raging overhead, and glances down. A fork of lightning illuminates the night sky and he sees a flash of white-hair, blue clothes, and something red. 

Jay begins to climb down the ladder, jumping the last few feet and landing on the wet concrete below. Carlos and Evie rush to meet him and their excited grins pull the corner of his own mouth up. 

“We got it!” Carlos lifts the red gas tank with pride. “Mom won’t even know it’s gone.” 

Jay pats him on the back even though his stomach twists with worry. Cruella is bound to realize the gasoline for her beloved car is missing and he doesn’t want Carlos caught anywhere near the crossfire. He makes a mental note to swipe some of the flammable liquid from the next goblin barge (assuming they have anything other than Auradon’s leftovers). 

He looks to Evie who clutches a box of matches in her hand. She said there was a stash in her castle for lighting the chandelier, something about her mother and poor lighting making Evie’s skin abhorrent to look at. (And Jay had to clench his fists at that because she had said it so casually.) 

He pulls his own contribution from the inside of his jacket, a few glass bottles and some scraps of cloth. (Jafar won’t miss the items, and if he does, well...it’ll be worth it.) 

“With this weather there’s no way we’ll catch fire on the deck, but there’s a hole a few feet down in the hull that opens into the first level. If we can toss these in, we’ll burn at least half their supplies,” Jay says as he glances in the direction of their target. 

Uma has been working on the Lost Revenge ever since she won it from Captain Hook’s race. She’s made it the heart of her operation, her main fortress, with her gang of pirates issuing repairs and hauling in goods. She has it docked at the pier and while it is a formidable location with its narrow walkways and closed off entry points, there are a few weaknesses. Specifically, the vantage point from the water tower of the city. 

Jay smirks as he weighs a glass bottle in his hand. (Her loss is his gain.) 

“I’ve been watching their rotations. I haven’t seen Uma or Harry, I’m guessing they’re in the captain’s quarters. Gil is overseeing the rest of the pirates, he’s up in the crow’s nest but every half hour or so he leaves to get something from Ursula's Fish and Chips. Once he’s gone we’ll have a short window to light it up. We can get there through the tunnel in the old garage, I just haven’t figured out how we’re going to get close enough to the ship without the whole pirate crew spotting us.” 

Evie flashes him a mischievous smile, “Leave that to me.” 

She doesn’t elaborate, but Jay hopes she knows what she’s doing. (It’s not trust. At the end of the day, he can only rely on himself. It’s not trust.) 

They each take two bottles, filling them with gasoline and soaking the cloths in the flammable liquid before stuffing them through the glass necks. They move quickly from the water tower down the winding alleyways to the old garage. They peer into the tunnel leading to the docks and watch as Gil begins to descend the rigging. Their window has just opened. 

Evie moves to walk through the tunnel before Jay snatches her arm. 

“Whoa, hold on. What are you doing?” he asks, masking his concern with his assertive demeanor. (Mal isn’t here to lead, so now that responsibility falls to him.) 

“Trust me,” Evie says, her voice oozing confidence. “I have this handled. Wait for my signal.” 

And then she’s gone. 

Jay shares a glance with Carlos, who simply shrugs. 

They follow after her through the tunnel. They stop at the other end, hiding in the shadows just before the metal walls connect with the wooden ramp attaching it to the dock. Jay scans the pier for Evie and his heart leaps into his throat as he spots her strutting her way towards Ursula's Fish and Chips, heading straight for Gil. 

“What is she doing?” he hisses to Carlos. The other boy’s lips move with unformed words, his own eyes wide with shock before he shakes his head. 

“She has a plan,” Carlos mutters, though the fear is still prevalent in his eyes. “She has a plan.” 

Jay bites back a curse and returns his attention to Evie. (He hopes Carlos is right.) 

She saunters over, getting closer and closer to Gil with every step. She’s just made it to the entrance of Ursula’s Fish and Chips when she bumps into him. The son of Gaston blinks in surprise and reaches out to steady her. 

“Whoa, hi,” Gil’s deep voice says, startled, his hands coming to Evie’s shoulders. Jay feels a growl building in his chest and fights to keep it down. (Helplessness, he knows the feeling all too well.) 

“Hi,” Evie says breathlessly. She looks at Gil with wide eyes, batting her eyelashes as she grips his bicep for stability. “I didn’t see you there.” Her body shifts as if she’s about to turn away before she pauses, as if thinking better of it. “Is there any chance you know Harry Hook?” 

“Harry?” Gil asks with a puzzled expression. “Yeah, he’s the first mate. And I'm his first mate. So, I guess that makes me the second mate?” 

The boy’s eyebrows scrunch together and he looks deep in thought. Part of Jay almost feels bad for tricking him. While there is no love lost between Mal’s gang and Uma’s pirate crew, Gil has always possessed a childlike innocence. And while he is fair game, especially during gang wars, no one ever enjoys having to hurt the son of Gaston. (Something about his innocence is rare on the Isle, something sacred that needs to be preserved.) 

“Oh perfect,” Evie’s face floods with relief. “You must be Gil.” 

“That’s me!” Gil says proudly. His smile falters as he cocks his head. “How do you know who I am? We haven’t met before, have we?” He sounds genuinely concerned at the possibility of forgetting her, of hurting her feelings, and really Gil has never been cut out for Isle life. 

(No one is.) 

“No, no we haven’t,” Evie reassures him. She leans closer to Gil. “Harry told me about you. I’ve followed his orders. He told me to find you when I was done.” 

“Harry didn’t mention anybody to me,” Gil says hesitantly. 

Jay holds his breath but Evie doesn’t seem phased. “Don’t take it personally, I don’t think he’s mentioned me to anyone. I’m Evie.” 

Carlos makes a faint choking noise and Jay feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. (Doesn’t she know that Uma and Harry have to have told their whole crew what went down in the warehouse? That Evie is probably on the most wanted list for skewering their captain’s hand?)

Gil’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he pulls his hands away from Evie’s arms, pointing at her. “You’re the one who shish kebabbed Uma’s hand.” His own hand moves towards his sword clumsily. 

“Shhh,” Evie puts a calming hand on top of Gil’s. “Yes, that was me. But it’s all part of Harry’s plan. Infiltrate Mal’s gang, gain their trust, pick apart their weaknesses.” 

Jay shares a glance with Carlos. It’s scary how convincing she is, and Jay would almost believe her if it wasn’t for the fact that he had seen her himself the day she joined their gang. Had watched Carlos drag her freezing body into the hideout. Had watched her eyes light up at the idea of not being alone anymore. 

(Had seen the tear in her dress and the shake of Mal’s fists and the raw pain in both girls’ eyes.) 

(Emotion like that couldn’t be faked.) 

Gil’s hand slowly lowers from his sword but his eyes remain cautious. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

“Do you really think I would trust Mal after all she and her mother have done to me?” Evie’s voice trembles with barely controlled anger and she shakes her head. Lightning flashes overhead, illuminating her dark smile. “No, I want revenge. Same as Harry, same as Uma. I’m going to help you destroy Mal and her gang from the inside out.” The darkness fades from Evie’s expression, replaced with her confident, flirty persona as she winks at Gil. “Besides, if I really wanted to kill Uma, I would have done it already. The hand is a much harder target than the throat.” 

(Damn, she’s good.) 

Gil is still looking at her with fading suspicion, but Jay knows that the boy has taken the bait. Evie knows it too. 

“Okay,” Gil says slowly. “But what do you need me for? Why did Harry tell you to come to me?” 

Evie glances around as if watching for prying eyes before looking up at Gil. Her voice is as smooth as silk, “I heard you control the crew. Harry doesn’t want anyone to know what I’m doing, less people to spill the secret. He said you can ring the dinner bell and have everyone eat at Ursula’s while I sneak onto the ship to meet with him. I was doubtful at first but...” Evie runs her fingertips down the length of Gil’s bicep, slick with the sleet falling from the sky, before her eyes trail up to him, her next words a breathless whisper, “I believe him now.” 

Gil’s eyes are cloudy and he nods slowly. “Yeah,” a small smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “Yeah I can do that.” 

“Perfect,” Evie winks at Gil as she jabs a thumb behind her towards the side of Ursula’s Fish and Chips. “I’ll just be waiting over there.” 

She lets her fingers linger on Gil’s arm before she vanishes around the corner. Gil opens his mouth and steps forward as if he wants to say something more, but she’s already gone. He scrunches his eyebrows together before nodding to himself, marching back up to the ship. 

Jay lets out a scoff of disbelief as the sound of the ship bell rings out and the crew gathers around Gil. He shouts something that has the crew raising their fists and cheering before they all pile onto the docks and make their way towards Ursula’s. 

Jay turns to Carlos and sees the look of wonder on his face. Their eyes meet and Carlos breaks into a smile. “Told you she had a plan.” 

Jay punches his shoulder but even he allows a smirk to form on his lips. 

As the last of the crew disappears behind the swinging doors, Gil calls out, “You can come out now.” 

Evie drifts around the corner and saunters right up to Gil. She keeps her eyes low, laying her hand on his soaked shirt over his chest. She bites her lip before her gaze lifts to meet his, “You should join them. I’m sure they’ll miss the company of their fearless leader.” 

“Well I’m not their leader, Uma is,” Gil says, but his words are low and soft. (Distracted.) 

Evie hums, her eyes falling back to Gil’s chest where her fingertips are drawing lazy circles. “Strong _and_ humble. I just might have to stop by on unofficial business someday.” 

Jay clenches his fists at the insinuation, because while Evie’s eyes are dark with longing, the hand by her side is shaking imperceptibly. She of all people knows how dangerous flirting can be. (Consent is meaningless on the Isle. She knows it, he knows it. It’s just the way it is.) 

But Gil, sweet, innocent Gil, simply smiles and brings a hand hesitantly to Evie’s face. It’s slow, deliberate, giving her time to reject him if she so chooses. (And really, Gil has never been cut out for Isle life.) He traces the curve of her jaw. “I’d like that, only if you’d like it too.” 

Jay watches as Evie searches Gil’s eyes with a barely masked intensity. They’re both drenched from the sleet and thunder booms overhead. (What she’s looking for, he doesn’t know.) 

She seems to find it though, swallowing thickly as the corners of her lips twitch up before cocking her head in the direction of Ursula’s Fish and Chips. “You better get in there.” 

Gil nods and looks down, his own hand coming up to grasp Evie’s on his chest. He lifts her fingers away slowly before gently lowering her hand back to her side. He lets go as his eyes lock back onto Evie’s, flashing her a small smile before he turns and pushes the doors to Ursula’s open. And then he’s gone. 

Evie stands there for a second, alone on the pier, and Jay sees her take in a shuddering breath. He’s just about to exit the tunnel himself, signal be damned, when Evie breaks out in a sprint towards the ship, her whistle piercing the air. (He doesn’t know what that was all about, but he intends to find out.) 

Jay and Carlos take that as their cue. They stalk out of the tunnel and race down the wooden walkways. They meet Evie on the ramp leading to the Lost Revenge. She pulls out the matchbox as they begin to take their bottles out of the insides of their jackets. 

“Nice work,” Carlos praises with a smile. Evie returns it and Carlos busies himself with pulling the second bottle out of his jacket, but something seems off. Jay can feel it. 

He meets Evie’s eyes in a silent question. Her own practically beg him to stay quiet, her gaze flickering to Carlos before returning to his. (Later. Not with Carlos here.) Jay sighs and his mouth sets into a frown. He doesn’t like it, and he doesn’t quite understand, but he relents. 

Evie’s shoulders relax and she nods to him before striking the match, shielding the small flame with her hand. “Who wants to do the honors?” 

Jay smirks and steps in front of an eager Carlos. “You don’t want to go first?” 

Evie’s smirk mirrors his own as she quirks an eyebrow at him, “Age before beauty.” 

He lets out an amused scoff. (Nice to know their dynamic hasn’t changed.) With a bottle in either hand, Jay tips the tops toward the match and watches with amazement as the gasoline-soaked cloths go up in flames. Jay hears Carlos’s Molotov cocktails igniting behind him as he pulls his arm back and launches the first bottle through the hole in the ship. He hears it shatter as the wood inside goes up in flames. He lets the second bottle fly and laughs as he sees the fire spread. Carlos’s bottles follow shortly after, the boy giving his own shouts of excitement. 

Carlos strikes another match for Evie to ignite her cocktails and she throws them in just as they hear furious footsteps coming from the captain’s quarters. 

“Let’s go!” Carlos exclaims as he and Evie take off towards the tunnel. 

Jay hangs back as he pulls one last thing from his jacket. It’s his own little surprise, an empty can of Mal’s slime green spray paint. He tosses it up before catching it in his hand again. He can hear footsteps marching onto the deck. 

“Jay, c’mon!” Carlos shouts behind him. 

Jay pitches the can onto the deck before running after Carlos and Evie, disappearing into the tunnel as Uma’s screeching echoes behind them. 

(That one’s for Mal.) 

* * *

They sprint for the next half hour to be safe, heading for the center of the Isle where their hideout is. They slow to a walk as they exit out of Uma’s territory. 

“That was awesome!” Carlos exclaims, keeping his voice low yet unable to contain his excitement. His face is covered in soot and he smells like smoke, but his smile is undeniable. 

Jay laughs and rustles the younger boy’s hair in a rare show of affection. “It sure was.” 

He glances at Evie who is smiling at them softly. When she realizes she’s being watched she startles, as if she had been intruding. Jay sends her a soft smile as well, “You were right, Evie. Paying Uma and Harry a little visit was just what we needed.” 

(He doesn’t say that he’s proud of her. He doesn’t say that Mal would approve. But he doesn’t _not_ say it.) 

Evie’s shoulders relax and she returns his small smile. “I guess we did do pretty good today, huh?” 

Carlos turns to Evie, walking backwards as he points to her. “What you did with Gil was impressive, Evie. I told you, you have a way with words that no one else does.” 

Evie smiles at him but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos turns back around but Jay stares at her intensely. He gets the feeling that something is off again. 

Carlos picks up his pace and stalks ahead. To the naked eye Carlos is casually strolling along but Jay knows better, knows that Carlos is scouting ahead for possible threats and hiding spots. Knowing that Carlos is covering their front, he takes this opportunity to drift back and walk with Evie. (Time for some answers.) 

“What happened back there with Gil?” Jay asks in a low tone. She didn’t want Carlos to hear for some reason, so he would respect that. 

Evie sighs and drops her eyes to the ground. “It was fine,” she states shortly. 

“But?” Jay pushes. He knows there’s more to the story. 

“I couldn’t help but think...” Evie trails off as she bites her lip. Jay waits patiently as she considers her words. “He’s so innocent. I’ve never met someone like that. If he ever ran into the wrong person...” 

(Oh. That’s what this is about.) 

“Evie,” Jay’s tone is soft. “Gil is a strong guy. He can take care of himself.” 

She whips her head towards him, eyes shining with fire and unshed tears. “And what does that say about me?” 

Jay sighs and runs a hand through his hair. (That came out wrong.) 

“That’s not what I meant. You are beyond capable. But you can’t worry about Gil. Uma and Harry look after him. You need to look after yourself.” (At the end of the day, you can only rely on yourself.)

As much as he hates Uma and Harry, he has to admit their loyalty to Gil is unmatched. Jay often forgets that Evie has lived in isolation all her life. She’s never met Gil, doesn’t know the true extent of Uma and Harry’s cruelty or the unspoken loathing shared by all the gangs at the idea of any deliberate harm coming to the son of Gaston. It doesn’t guarantee his safety in the slightest (nothing is guaranteed on the Isle, not even death), their parents and the other villains don't share their sentiments and even the gangs are willing to do what they must if it comes to that, but Gil has something no one else on the Isle has: purity of heart. And while no one is above stopping that heart to get what they need (they can’t be above that, they can’t, not allowed), no one wants to be the first to do it. 

“I just feel—” Evie’s eyes widen as she cuts herself off abruptly. (A forbidden word.) But Jay hears it anyway. 

(Guilty.) 

“I know,” he says gently. “But you aren’t _him_. You had no sort of intentions like that towards Gil.” 

They both know who Jay is referring to. 

“I guess,” Evie shrugs, and while she doesn’t look convinced, her eyes are a little lighter. She turns to him, “Thanks, Jay. Can we...can we keep this between us?” Her eyes dart to Carlos’s silhouette ahead of them. “I don’t want Carlos to worry.” 

Jay doesn’t think this conversation is over (doesn’t want the conversation to be over). Going through what she has, Evie is bound to have some emotional trauma. He’s seen it with Mal, and he assumes Evie will be no different, even if their experiences aren’t quite the same. (They’re close enough.) 

Still, he knows when to back off, and so he nods in agreement and Evie’s eyes flood with relief. 

Jay blinks as his attention turns back to his surroundings. He looks ahead, calling out in question, “Carlos?” 

The younger boy looks back at him and his eyes are glinting with determination and sadness. “I just wanted to check one more time.” 

They’re standing at the base of Maleficent’s castle. Mal’s purple curtains are still pulled shut and thunder rumbles overhead. 

Jay has already checked twice today and he knows Carlos has done the same. Evie had even tagged along despite her fear of both Maleficent and Mal. They hadn’t gotten a response. 

But Jay understands where Carlos is coming from, shares the same concern for their purple-haired leader. He lets out a sigh and gestures for Carlos to go ahead. 

Carlos picks up a small pebble and weighs it in his hand before tossing it up towards Mal’s balcony. It cracks against the broken glass doors and they wait with baited breath. 

Nothing. 

Carlos exhales shakily and his eyes darken again. He turns away and Jay can see his crestfallen expression despite his attempts at hiding it. Jay opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s going to say, when— 

A faint, low whistle pierces the cold winter air, and Jay’s chills aren’t from the sleet. 

Evie inhales sharply behind him and Carlos is whipping back around but Jay doesn’t care because she’s _alive_ and he’s climbing the vines on the castle already. 

His boots land on the hard stone as he swings himself over the balcony’s wall. He creeps silently towards the doors, his heart pounding in his chest. Part of him wants to rush forward, the other feels frozen in place. (What will he see on the other side of these doors?) 

He hears Carlos slide up beside him and feels Evie over his shoulder. 

(Now or never.) 

Jay pulls the doors open and pushes back the curtains. 

His blood freezes as lightning splits the sky above. 

(Helplessness, he knows the feeling all too well.) 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m back with another update. I’m really excited about this one and I can’t wait to hear what you all think! I know I’m not the greatest at describing the visuals of a location, but if it helps at all I'm picturing the sets from the movie and using them in this story. So the hideout is the same as the one from Descendants 2 and Uma’s ship and the pier are the same as well. We weren’t shown all the much of Maleficent’s castle so I had to improvise a little there, but I went back and watched the movie and tried to match it as best I could, though I have taken some creative liberties. 
> 
> I would like to preface this chapter by stating that I am not a doctor by any means and while I researched a little for this update, I got mixed results and my information could be entirely wrong. For the sake of the story and the concept of the Isle having little to no medical supplies (or anything useful, really), I went with my original idea though it might be (read: probably is) inaccurate medically. Hope it doesn’t bother too many people! 
> 
> Challenge: Can anyone tell me what quote I used from the first Descendants movie in this chapter?
> 
> Warnings: Graphic depictions of burns/blood, mentions of child abuse, brief mention of assault/rape

The first thing Evie registers is the smell. A mixture of metallic blood and burning flesh, and really, that should have been her first clue. She feels like she’s going to be sick, and then Jay throws open the doors. A flash of lightning illuminates the sight before her and she just manages to stop the bile rising in her throat. 

Mal, the terrifying, threatening, powerful leader of one of the most infamous gangs. Mal, who has haunted Evie’s dreams, turning them into nightmares. Mal, who killed a boy in cold blood and returned unfazed. 

Mal, who lays beaten on the cold stone floor. (Mal, the daughter of _Maleficent_.) 

Jay surges forward, Carlos hot on his heels, but Evie feels frozen in place as she stares at the other girl, illuminated only by the moonlight. 

Mal’s eyes are closed and her body is shivering. She’s laying on one side, facing the balcony, and her lips are moving with unspoken words. Her face is bruised and her lip is swollen. There’s blood creeping around the sides of her shirt and Evie is sure there’s more of the red liquid on her back. But all of that pales in comparison to the black skin marring Mal’s neck and wrists. Charred, blistering, and burnt to a crisp. There are gaps of skin missing and Evie thinks she can just make out the something white amidst all the red of Mal’s wrist. A single word repeats itself in Evie’s mind. 

( _Broken._ ) 

Jay kneels down near Mal’s head, Carlos to his left. Evie wills herself to move but her body won’t obey. 

“Mal?” Jay says hesitantly, his hands hovering over her prone form. His voice is thick with emotion and Evie has never seen him more vulnerable. Thunder rumbles outside. 

Carlos’s hands mirror Jay’s, floating just above Mal’s side. He slowly lays a hand on her shoulder, “M—” 

Mal flinches away violently and her shaking intensifies. “B-better,” she stammers, “I’ll d-do better.” 

Evie feels something in her chest crack as Mal tenses and curls in on herself like she’s waiting for pain. Her lips continue to form unvoiced thoughts. 

Carlos retracts his hand as if he’s been burned. “Mal? Mal, it’s me, Carlos.” 

Mal’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes remain shut, but her mouth slows its rapid formation of silent words. 

Chapped lips tremble as she tries to speak, “C-Carlos?” 

“We’re here, Mal,” Jay promises, his voice hoarse. “You’re safe.” 

The violent shaking subsides, leaving small shivers in their wake. Mal exhales shakily and her voice cracks as she whispers, “Guys?” 

“It’s us,” Carlos whispers back. Evie can see the tears streaming down his face. “Now will you open your eyes? Please?” 

Mal swallows hard before her eyes crack open. They’re dull and lifeless, like the fire has been snuffed out. Evie feels the breath leave her lungs as Mal blinks a few times before her gaze meets Evie’s own. 

(She wishes Mal’s eyes would glow green with a threat. Anything is better than the shattered stare she’s met with now.) 

“E...E—” Mal stutters over her name, tongue not cooperating. Her face twists in pain as she tries to pronounce the “v” noise. “E—” 

That gets Evie moving. 

She rushes to Mal, kneeling between Carlos and Jay. “I’m here, M.” 

(Mal is not one to show weakness. If she can only pronounce the first letter of Evie’s name, then Evie will match her.) 

Mal’s left fist unfolds, revealing Evie’s red heart necklace. There’s blood on the silver chain and the clasp is dented. 

“F-figured you'd w-want this back, p-princess.” 

Mal tries to smirk, her walls going back up, but her split lip gushes more blood from the action and turns into more of a grimace. 

Evie takes the charm with a shaking hand. 

She had realized she lost it a few hours after fleeing from the castle. Her mother had not been pleased and Evie’s side still twinges in pain from the memory, but after several days of searching she had decided to cut her losses. She assumed she could have lost it anywhere on the Isle. She hadn't considered that she left it in Mal’s room. 

Evie runs her thumb over the pendant and takes in a shuddering breath as the implications flood her mind. 

(Is she the reason Mal is bleeding on the floor of her own bedroom?) 

Evie’s thoughts threaten to consume her as Jay’s voice sounds somewhere in the distance. “We have to get you out of here.” 

Mal tries to nod but her neck protests and she bites back a whimper. 

Carlos stands and grabs Mal’s leather bag from the floor near her bed. He begins to stuff it with Mal’s clothes and rare art supplies. He snatches her leather jacket from her bed as well, carefully draping it over his shoulder. 

Evie watches as Jay whispers something in Mal’s ear before he rises to his feet. He tries to pick her up, lifting her into his arms before attempting to place her over his shoulders as Mal bites her lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet. His muscles tremble and he falters, his grip slipping dangerously before he lowers Mal back to the ground. As strong as Jay is, he’s still only eleven, and carrying the full weight of another person while climbing down the side of a castle isn’t going to work. 

Jay curses under his breath, “We’ll have to go through.” 

It feels like the temperature drops ten degrees. Sneak through the castle, down the stairs, past the gate, out the large oak doors, all without getting caught by the Mistress of Evil. Evie’s heart hammers in her chest. 

Carlos pales and Jay’s hands are trembling. Mal’s eyes fill with fear (Evie decides she doesn’t like the look on the other girl) but she sets her jaw. 

Jay motions Carlos over. The white-haired boy runs to Evie first, handing her Mal’s bag and leather jacket. Another fork of lightning lights up the sky and Evie has a clear view of Carlos’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face. He nods solemnly to her before turning around. Jay is kneeling in front of Mal as Carlos walks behind her. He gets on Mal’s other side and Evie hears his sharp intake of breath at whatever damage is done to Mal’s back. 

He kneels next to her and their eyes lock. Mal’s lips quirk up in an attempt at reassurance and Carlos levels her with his own sad smile before gently draping her arm around his neck. 

“On three,” Jay says, looking at Mal apologetically. Carlos nods. “One, two, three.” 

They rise to their feet, bringing Mal with them. She lets out a pained grunt as her skin pulls. The boys try to adjust her as carefully as possible between the two of them, shouldering most of her weight as her feet barely scrape the ground. 

Jay looks at Evie and nods. “Let’s go.” 

With the boys’ limited mobility, the responsibility of scouting ahead and clearing a path falls to Evie. She walks to Mal’s bedroom door and opens it slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door creaks slightly and Evie swears her heart jumps to her throat but Maleficent doesn’t appear in a cloud of smoke, so she supposes that’s a good thing.

She creeps outside, praying she remembers the path to the main entrance. She’s only been in Maleficent’s castle once, entering through the front doors and exiting down the castle wall. (Not the best experience.) 

Evie turns to her left and walks down the curved stone staircase. She hears the others staggering along behind her, trying to be as quick and as quiet as possible. 

The castle is dark and ominous. In the dead of night, there’s not a single candle lit within the stone walls, the only light coming from the moon shining through the cracked windows. Evie gets to the bottom of the stairs and can barely make out her surroundings. The boys don’t seem to be faring much better and Mal is clearly out of it. 

Evie takes a wild guess and turns right, shuffling one foot slowly in front of the other as she feels her way forward, careful not to bump into unseen objects or knock anything over. Her hands roam the cold wall and she shambles forward before she feels a wooden door. She searches for the handle blindly before twisting, opening it slowly. 

The stench of burning flesh intensifies and Evie has to fight the urge to gag. She hears Jay and Carlos freeze behind her as Mal struggles in their arms. Her voice sounds panicked and slurred, as if she isn’t aware of her surroundings. “N-no, please. I’ll do b-better, I p-promise.” 

(Wrong way, wrong place, wrong, wrong, _wrong_ —) 

Evie nearly slams the door shut before remembering where she is, catching herself at the last second and quietly closing the door as quickly as she can. She backs away hastily as her stomach lurches. 

(What torment took place beyond that door?) 

(What could make Mal so afraid?)

Lightning cuts across the sky through the windows and provides the briefest moment of illumination for Evie to view her surroundings. She’s on the ground floor, the stairs leading to Mal’s room on the third floor where they had come from is somewhere behind her. Opposite that is a spiraling staircase, though Evie doesn’t know where it leads. She realizes she made a wrong turn, going right when she should have gone straight. She’s standing in a small, narrow passageway connecting two larger rooms, the only door in the hall being the one she had just opened. 

She backtracks into the main room as her eyes try to readjust to the return of the darkness. She bumps into what she thinks is a table and freezes, straining her ears for any sign of movement from the floors above. She sighs as the silence resumes. No sign of Maleficent. 

(Other than the bloody, beaten girl left in her wake.) 

Evie feels as if she’s been holding her breath for hours, shuffling forward for an eternity until finally her hands find the smooth, cold bronze of the castle gates leading to the foyer. She flinches as they creak open. The air turns frigid as they near the winter weather outside and another boom of thunder sounds overhead. 

There are two staircases on either side of her, mirror images of one another, both leading to the ground floor of the foyer where Evie knows the large oak doors to the castle reside. 

She can hear Mal’s repressed whimpers and the boys’ strained grunts as they hurry down the steps. Evie reaches the bottom of the stairs and rushes quietly to the entryway. She grips the long metal bar of a handle and pushes her body against one of the doors. It’s tall and heavy but with increased effort Evie manages to crack it open just wide enough to usher Mal, Jay, and Carlos through. She slips out into the moonlight behind them, closing the door swiftly. 

Her body barely has time to flood with relief before they are breaking out in a sprint towards the hideout. (Not safe. Not yet.)

(Not ever.)

Now that she can see her surroundings and without the burden of staying silent, Evie easily leads the way through the winding twists and turns of the alleys. She’s careful not to run too far ahead, can hear Mal’s barely disguised groans of pain and Carlos’s repeated murmurs of apology and Jay’s muttered reassurances as they follow her as quickly as possible. Evie wishes they could slow their pace, doesn't want to strain Mal so much, but they have to get to the hideout so they can treat her wounds. 

(With what supplies, she doesn't know.) 

* * *

Lightning forks across the sky as they finally arrive at the hideout an hour later. They’re shivering, drenched from the sleet and shaking as the wind picks up. The storm rages on, only getting worse as the night continues. 

Evie adjusts Mal’s bag on her back as she bends down to pick up a rock. She throws it at the sign above, knocking it back and raising the gate guarding the stairs. 

She glances behind her and takes in her (not friends, not allowed) allies. Soaked to the bone, they all look exhausted. Jay and Carlos are breathing heavily from supporting Mal’s weight between the two of them for the past hour of navigating through the Isle. Mal herself looks about ready to drop and Evie is almost positive the only thing keeping the other girl awake is the pain her body seems to radiate. 

Evie shakes her head. (Now is not the time for this.) 

She sprints up the tall stairwell, flight after flight, until she finally reaches the top. She pulls the lever to close the gate as the boys dash past her. 

Entering the hideout seems to have reignited a fire in the them as they burst down the four steps leading into the main area, snapping into action with renewed vigor. 

They rush around the wall separating the small opening of the stairs from the rest of the rooms, heading for the table Evie had woken up on less than two weeks ago. They nod to each other before hauling Mal on top of the wooden surface and Evie realizes this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. 

(And what does that say about their parents?) 

Mal groans as her back meets the table and Carlos whispers another apology as Jay runs to the locked chest against the wall. He slips the key from his pocket and the lock falls to the floor as he pries open the lid. 

Evie slings Mal’s bag off her shoulder and sets it by the couch along with the girl’s leather jacket before meeting Carlos at the table. Her eyes roam Mal’s body and she almost wishes they were back in the castle. At least there they had the cover of darkness to shield their eyes from the severity of Mal’s injuries. 

Her burns are gruesome, patches of black, charred skin a stark contrast from the girl’s natural paleness. Open blisters are leaking blood and gaps of Mal’s skin are just _gone,_ as if someone had carved out chunks of her flesh, except from what Evie can tell there was no knife involved and that means her skin was _burned_ away and there’s a gap in the back of Mal’s wrist and she can see _bone_ and— 

(She thought she knew the extent of Maleficent’s cruelty, but she was wrong—) 

(She knew _nothing_.) 

Carlos’s eyes are wet as his hands hover over Mal’s body. 

“Mal?” he asks, his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes. “What did she do to you?” 

Jay is rummaging through the chest somewhere behind them and Evie realizes that Carlos is stalling, keeping Mal awake and trying to distract her from the pain. She coughs and a whimper escapes her lips as the movement pulls at her ruined flesh. Still, Mal is nothing if not a leader and she tries to give Carlos her signature smirk. (Evie knows all about keeping up appearances.) 

“M-mother didn’t take k-kindly to me d-disobeying her or-orders," Mal bites out. “D-dead men t-tell no t-tales, I sup-pose." 

“Uma and Harry,” Carlos’s eyes widen in realization. He clenches his fists and Jay swears behind them but Evie only feels cold, as if someone has injected ice into her veins. 

They hadn’t known Uma and Harry actually carried through with their threat. The revenge plot of burning their ship had been just that: revenge. Something to keep them busy, something to raise morale, something to do in Mal’s honor while she was gone. But knowing now that Uma and Harry are responsible for Mal’s punishment, it doesn’t seem like enough. 

(A burnt ship is nothing compared to burnt skin.) 

But that isn’t what has Evie frozen in place. 

Uma and Harry’s threat had caused Mal’s punishment. 

The threat to tell Maleficent about _Evie_ joining her gang. 

(Worse than useless, ruins everything, dangerous, toxic—) 

(Poison.) 

Evie opens her mouth, to do what she’s not sure (apologize, beg, cry), when Carlos says, “We’re going to have to take off your shirt.” 

Mal’s lips quirk and she winks, “G-going to have t-to up your g-game a little, C-Carlos.” 

He rolls his eyes at her but they’re full of endearment. He turns to Evie, speaking quietly only for her to hear. “Usually I do it, and we’ve never had a problem, but now that you’re here I think she’d be more comfortable...” 

Evie’s eyes widen but she nods anyways and it’s worth it to see Carlos’s look of appreciation. She inches towards Mal and grips the hem of her shirt. Evie pauses, searching Mal’s eyes for something like permission. 

Mal raises an eyebrow at her as she says cheekily, “W-what? Not g-going to t-take me out to d-dinner first, p-princess?” 

(It would almost be funny except she can feel Mal’s ribs beneath her shirt.) 

Evie scoffs instead, giving Mal an unimpressed look though her eyes betray her amusement. She takes a deep breath before pulling the t-shirt up, the bloody fabric sticking to Mal’s back. The smaller girl winces as the shirt rubs against her damaged flesh. 

Mal raises her arms as her shirt inches higher and Evie tries to avoid contact with Mal’s neck but it’s nearly impossible. She winces when she feels Mal flinch as the shirt collar brushes her throat before it’s pulled over her head. 

Evie sets the blood-soaked shirt on the floor and glances at Mal who is left in a small black bra. There’s bruising creeping around her sides from her back and Evie can see jagged lines of red curving around the tops of her shoulders, though her back remains on the table, hiding the full extent of the damage. 

Evie moves back to the side of the table and is met by Jay. He’s holding a half full bottle of vodka and a roll of bandages, and now Evie knows why the chest is locked. She’s never seen either object in person. The barge rarely has anything other than Auradon’s garbage and anything worth taking is gone the minute the boat docks, then subsequently fought for as the taker tries to sneak away. Evie has no idea how Jay managed to get his paws on alcohol and a clean roll of medical cloth. 

As Mal focuses on Jay, she lets out a scoff despite her discomfort, “Why is your f-face c-covered in soot?” 

Jay goes to raise a hand to his cheek reflexively and his eyes furrow in confusion before he glances at Evie and Carlos, whose faces reflect the black smudges back at him. A smirk settles on his lips and he chuckles as his smooth, cocky persona slips back into place. “Oh, this? Evie thought Uma and Harry’s ship could use some redecorating. But knowing what we do now...” his eyes lose their mirth and his hand tightens around the vodka bottle, “I think I'd rather rearrange their faces.” 

Mal’s eyes flicker to Evie and she almost looks...impressed? 

(No, that can’t be right.) 

Evie’s the reason Mal’s skin is blistering. If she didn’t hate Evie before, she had to now. Mal had offered her a place, let her in, and Evie had destroyed it. 

(Poison.) 

“S-sad I missed it,” Mal’s lips quirk. 

“You’ll be with us for the next one,” Carlos says firmly. He’s a whirlwind of emotions. (Rage in the clench of his jaw, fear in the shake of his hands, heartbreak in the look of his eyes.) His feelings are so raw and open, something so rare on the Isle, and Evie has to turn away. 

(She’s always been too good at reading people.) 

Mal’s own eyes are sad, softening as she looks at Carlos, and Evie knows that the other girl is thinking the same thing she is. 

(They haven’t even seen her back yet and the Isle is far from sterile. With so many open wounds...) 

(Even if death isn’t permanent, it’s not a pleasant experience, and timing is uncertain.) 

Jay seems to catch onto their train of thought and holds up the bottle of vodka. “I don’t care if we have to use all of it. We can fix this.” (We can fix _you._ ) 

Evie startles to see the unshed tears in Jay’s eyes as his mouth sets in a grim line. (Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Jay may have everybody else fooled, but not her.) 

Mal’s gaze settles on Jay and she raises her eyebrows. “Going s-soft on me, J-Jay?” she teases, though something in her face shifts and Evie can tell the other girl is touched. 

“You wish,” Jay’s voice is rough as he chokes back tears, refusing to let them fall. “If you go to hell, then you better believe I’ll raise it.” 

Mal scoffs but her eyes betray how meaningful the older boy is to her. 

Jay glances to Carlos and gestures to the bottle of vodka. “Carlos.” 

The white-haired boy nods before his hands fly to his belt, undoing the buckle, and suddenly Evie isn’t in the hideout. 

_Cold concrete on her back, the scent of cheap cologne—_

_A belt being undone as lips roam her body—_

_Hands, hands, hands—_

Evie is snapped out of her downward spiral by a boot nudging her arm. Jay and Carlos are exchanging words to her right and she looks down to see Mal’s piercing eyes. The other girl quirks an eyebrow at her, but there’s something in her gaze that Evie can’t quite discern. (It’s not sympathy. It’s not.) 

Evie looks away (it’s not shame) and focuses instead on Jay who is screwing off the cap of the vodka bottle. Carlos folds his belt before looking at Mal with sad eyes. He opens his mouth to speak before the purple-haired girl cuts him off. 

“It’s okay, ‘Los,” Mal whispers. “I’ll b-be fine.” (Evie knows a lie when she hears one.) 

Carlos nods, tears still streaming down his face as he lowers the belt towards Mal’s mouth. She grips it between her teeth and takes a deep breath. 

Carlos pulls a strip of clean cloth from the inside of his jacket and takes the bottle of vodka from Jay, soaking the scrap. Jay removes his beanie and gently lifts Mal’s head, placing the beanie beneath her before moving to the other side of the table. Mal’s eyes soften at him and Jay gives her a sad smirk as he winks. He sets the bandages on the table before placing his hands against her body, one on either shoulder. 

“Evie?” Carlos asks hesitantly. “I need you to hold down her legs.” 

Evie nods, blood pulsing through her veins as she walks around to the end of the table, her fingers clamping around Mal’s ankles. 

Carlos steels himself as his eyes meet Mal’s. Evie can see past the other girl’s reassuring nod and understanding eyes. (Fear is something she understands intimately.) 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos whispers, tipping the bottle towards Mal’s charred skin. Evie hears the hoarse apology, hears the thunder boom outside, hears the pounding of her heart in her chest. And then she hears the screaming. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another update! I’m sorry it’s shorter than usual, I had finished it but it didn’t feel right and I ended up cutting half of the chapter out and rewriting it, so it took a while and I’m trying to work everything into place. 
> 
> Also I know it seems like I’m really putting Mal through the ringer, and we will definitely focus on the Evie, Carlos, and Jay’s struggles with their parents, but Mal is my favorite character (guilty as charged) and so of course I have to give her the most heartbreaking story ;) but I definitely want to do the other three justice as well and dive into their lives.
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, mentions of assault/rape, depictions of burns/blood

Mal’s back is arching off the table and her screams echo through the silence of the hideout, ringing in Evie’s ears. 

(Pure, unadulterated pain.) 

Carlos’s tears are falling faster now, pouring down his face as he sets the bottle on the table and presses the cloth soaked in vodka against Mal’s neck (because they have to conserve as much of the alcohol as possible and pouring it over every spot isn’t very efficient, like taking off makeup—) 

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry,” Carlos chokes out, repeating the words like a mantra as he dabs at the burnt skin. 

Mal’s legs thrust upwards and Evie has to lean her full weight against the girl’s ankles to keep her restrained. The finger-shaped bruises on Mal’s jaw are highlighted as she bites down on the belt between her teeth. Evie can tell she’s trying to control her screams (can hear it in the choked sound of the noise, can see it in the tightness of her jaw, can feel it in the force of her legs) and wants to tell Mal that she doesn’t have to keep her walls up here, not with them. 

Since when did she go from being afraid of Mal to wanting to protect her? 

Maybe since she saw Mal for what she truly was, truly _is_. 

(A terrified, eleven-year-old kid.) 

(Sounds familiar.) 

Jay struggles to hold Mal’s shoulders down as a few tears finally slip from his own eyes. Evie now understands the importance of the beanie as Mal throws her head back against the table. 

Evie’s heart plummets as she remembers burnt wrists, bruised sides, an unseen back. 

(Mal will have to experience this again, and again, and again.) 

As Carlos works, the blood slowly begins to fade from Mal’s skin. Her screaming has tapered off into pained groans and her eyes are screwed shut, tears streaming down her face. Carlos finally finishes sterilizing the front of her neck, and while it looks slightly less horrific with the absence of blood, it doesn’t look much better. If anything, it only serves to highlight the charred areas that were covered by the red liquid. 

Carlos takes a deep breath as he grasps the bottle of vodka once more. Jay tenses across from him and Evie braces herself. Carlos squeezes Mal’s hand, trembling lips settling into a grim line, and then he’s pouring the liquid onto her scorched wrist. Mal’s eyes snap open in a flash of agony, eyes alight with pain before screwing shut again. 

The screaming isn’t any better the second time. 

* * *

It feels like eons pass before Carlos finishes wrapping both of Mal’s wrists. He’s covered in a cold sweat and he’s almost as pale as the girl on the table. Evie’s muscles are sore from the continuous strain of keeping Mal still and Jay’s neck cracks as he rolls it. 

Carlos delicately lowers Mal’s right wrist to the table and Evie grimaces as she remembers the stark white bone visible amongst the charred black flesh. She thinks that scar will be the most gruesome. 

(All of the scars will be gruesome.) 

Carlos wipes his forehead, looking much older than his mere nine years. His eyes are exhausted but determined as he looks to Evie and Jay. “I need to get the back of her neck.” 

Evie releases Mal’s ankles and Jay nods, moving his hands to one side of the purple-haired girl’s body. He and Carlos carefully roll Mal onto her stomach as gently as possible. Evie feels like crying as she takes in the sight before her. 

Mal’s back is a canvas of torment. Bruises mar her skin in an intense explosion of color. Any flesh not marked by black or blue is covered in red, the blood seeping from jagged lacerations as if the skin was torn, not cut. The gashes are short in length but vast in number. They cover the length of her back, occasionally crossing over one another, contrasting against bruised skin. Her back is marked from the tops of her shoulders to the base of her hips and black and blue streak around the edges of her sides. 

(Maybe she should be grateful that burns don’t cover Mal’s back like they do her neck and wrists.) 

(How twisted is it that she’s relieved at the idea of a traditional beating?) 

Evie’s eyes water but she doesn’t let the teardrops fall. Carlos’s lips tremble as he bites back a cry. Jay is seething and his eyes are dark but Evie knows his anger hides a deeper emotion. He grabs Mal’s upper arms this time, avoiding her shoulders as if he caused the bruises himself, and Evie moves to take hold of her ankles once more. 

Tears cascade down Carlos’s face as he lifts the bottle shakily over Mal’s prone form, and then he’s pouring the vodka onto the rest of her neck and the length of her back. 

Mal’s strangled cries pierce the silence and her back muscles tense as her hands ball into fists. Her head is turned to the side and her jaw is clenched so tightly it pops. 

Carlos is still whispering apologies and a voice in the back of Evie’s head hisses how wrong it is, how apologies are not allowed. 

(The louder, more prominent voice tells her how wrong everything is.) 

Carlos dabs and presses against the seared flesh as Jay murmurs reassurances. “Almost done, Mal,” he promises. “Hang in there.” 

After what feels like hours, though she knows it’s only been a matter of minutes, Carlos completely cleans the back of Mal’s neck and most of her back, setting the cloth aside (ignoring the way it’s soaked in something redder than vodka) as Jay hands him the roll of bandages. Jay moves to the end of the table and he gently cradles Mal’s head in his hands, pulling her hair back so Carlos can wrap her neck. Evie can see the beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, whimpers escaping her lips, and Carlos is murmuring something in her ear. 

He finishes bandaging Mal’s throat as he looks wordlessly to Evie, his eyes flickering to the clasp of Mal’s bra covering a strip of her back. They’ll need to undo it to dress her wounds. Evie takes a shuddering breath as she moves around the table next to Carlos (it’s almost over) and reaches out her hands. 

As soon as she’s unhooked the fabric, Mal tenses and her fists swing wildly from her sides. Evie stumbles backwards as the blow makes contact with her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and stinging her already tender skin. (Mother _really_ hadn’t been happy about her losing the necklace.) Carlos steadies Evie, standing slightly in front of her as if to shield her, his eyes widening as he stares at Mal. 

“N-no!” Mal cries. “Back o-off! I d-don't w-want it!” 

(And oh, this sounds familiar.) 

Her legs are kicking and her body is shaking and the wounds on her back are leaking more blood and she’s going to fall off the table if she doesn’t stop flailing— 

Jay crouches from his spot in front of Mal until he’s eye level with her. 

“Mal. Mal!” Jay lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Hey, it’s Jay. I’m here. Focus on me. You’re in the hideout, you’re safe.” 

(There’s that word again. Safe. No one is safe on the Isle.) 

Mal’s flailing stops but her trembling seems to intensify as her glazed eyes land on Jay. The tears pouring down her face cut deeper than her scars. “I-I don’t w-want—I d-didn't want—” a strangled sob escapes Mal’s lips and Evie feels her heart breaking. 

(She never wants to hear that noise from Mal ever again.) 

(Wrong, wrong, _wrong—_ ) 

Jay shushes her, his hand cupping her cheek. “I know, I know,” he sweeps a strand of hair away from Mal’s pale face. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” 

Mal exhales shakily and nods a few times, leaning into Jay’s hand as more tears trickle down her cheeks. Carlos looks at Evie, his eyes concerned and his hand reaching towards her cradled stomach, but she knows where he truly wants to be and waves him off. Evie’s had much worse than a punch to the gut. 

(Besides, everything seems to pale in comparison to the scene unfolding before her.) 

Carlos looks her over one more time, his gaze locking on hers in something like gratitude before he rushes to Jay’s side and intertwines Mal’s fingers with his own. 

“We’re right here, Mal. We’ve got you,” Carlos squeezes Mal’s hand and she squeezes back, her eyes flickering to his as she gives him a tired, watery smile and suddenly Evie feels like she’s intruding. The three of them huddled so close together, their foreheads nearly touching, it almost feels like— 

(Even if they won’t admit it, even if it’s not allowed, even if they have no idea what it’s supposed to look like—) 

(She thinks a family would look like this.) 

Evie feels a pang of longing in her chest (a pang of loss). She doesn’t know what to do. In the last two weeks, she’s already grown far too attached (attachment is not allowed). But she knows once this emergency is over, she’ll have to leave. Maleficent punished Mal solely for associating herself with Evie. Even if by some miracle Mal still accepts her presence in the gang, there’s no way Maleficent will allow it. Evie knows what she has to do, but she still feels a crushing sense of loss as she realizes that after tonight, she’ll be back to living alone with her mother. 

(You did this to yourself. Poison. You are poison—) 

Green eyes meet brown. Fractured, unfocused pupils lock on Evie and she feels frozen. There’s pain in the emerald irises, a sea of unexplored hurt and bottled up emotions, but there’s something else. Something deeper, something that pierces Evie’s soul. She isn’t given time to decipher the look when Mal’s eyes snap away, distracted by the boy in front of her. 

Lightning flashes outside and Carlos whispers something in Mal’s ear as Jay shifts his position so he’s turned slightly outwards as if he’s watching their backs, but he keeps a hand on the edge of the table as reminder of his presence. Mal’s haunted eyes are slowly becoming less glassy as Carlos continues murmuring, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Sleet pounds the windows and thunder rumbles outside. 

(Yeah, she’s going to miss this.) 

* * *

Hours later, Evie will be the only one awake as the storm rages across the night sky. 

She will look to the table where a broken body resides. Mal's arm will be hanging off the side and Evie's eyes will follow its path. Down her bruised shoulder, past her bandaged wrist, right beneath her outstretched fingers, to find Carlos sleeping on the floor. His own fingers will be splayed on his chest awkwardly as if he had been holding something (someone) before he fell asleep. And Evie will look right above his white hair to find Jay’s knee, the boy sprawled on the floor perpendicular to Carlos and sleeping near the head of the table. His arm will be behind his head and if he were awake he would be able to see both the tip of Mal’s head above him and the length of Carlos’s body beside him from the seemingly casual position. 

Evie will rise from her own spot on the floor at the other end of the table where her legs almost brush Carlos’s. She’ll stand quietly in the dark as thunder booms outside. She’ll take a deep breath as she inches her way to the wall separating the room from the stairs. She’ll pause in the doorway and take one final look back. She’ll soak in Mal’s pale skin and Carlos’s small freckles and Jay’s toned muscles and the way they all fit perfectly together in a way that Evie never could. (Family.) 

And then Evie will leave. 

(And if her heart breaks, well, only she will know.) 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yo! Here’s the latest! That’s it. That’s the tweet. 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, depictions of burns/blood, but it’s actually pretty light this time! There is a single mention of an implied eating disorder. It’s like one sentence but I wanted to let you guys know.

Warm sunlight is falling on his face, the glow a nice reprieve from the harsh winter cold. His back is stiff from the hard concrete floor, but it’s a familiar ache (one he wakes up to more often than not). Carlos blearily blinks his eyes open, squinting against the morning light. 

The first thing he notices are the delicate yet calloused fingers dangling a few inches above his chest. 

(Mal.) 

Last night’s events come rushing back to him. 

The blood, the burns, the screams (oh god the _screams_ ). He remembers the stench of alcohol, a white cloth gradually turning red, glazed eyes and gut-wrenching sobs (tearing a hole straight through his chest because Mal never cries and then she was _sobbing_ and how could he have let any of this happen?) 

The whispered promises he had murmured in Mal’s ear as she relived memories no one should have to experience, the feeling of security as Jay scanned their surroundings in the safety of their hideout simply to make them feel protected, the gentle squeeze of Mal’s hand and her exhausted smile as she tried to play the fearless leader despite breaking down (if only she knew he thought of her as fearless _because_ of her traumas, not in spite of them). Kneeling on the floor between Mal and Jay with Evie close behind, being surrounded by the only people he’s ever trusted, it almost felt like— 

Mal’s fingers twitch above him and Carlos stretches his own digits resting against his chest. He remembers holding her hand as they both fell asleep and the sparkle in Jay’s humorous but understanding eyes when he’d seen their interlocked fingers. Carlos knows Mal won’t speak of it today, will punch Jay in the shoulder should he bring it up to tease her, but he also knows she will flash him an appreciative smile and a grateful nod. (Worth it.) 

He feels Jay’s kneecap just skimming the tips of his hair and remembers the son of Jafar’s own soft words as he spoke to Mal, the way he had jumped into action as soon as she began to panic. The wisdom in the older boy’s eyes that he seldom reveals yet has always possessed. (Jay has always been so complex yet so straightforward.) 

Carlos’s mind wanders to the newest addition to the group. He remembers the look in Evie’s eyes as Mal returned her necklace (shock, confusion, horror) and the way she had been so willing to help despite the bad blood between the two girls. He remembers her unshed tears as Mal’s back was exposed and the way she had looked physically pained when Mal cried out. And he hasn’t forgotten the way she had flinched harder than usual when Mal’s fist had connected with her abdomen. (He needed to talk Mal off of her ledge first, but he was definitely going to confront Evie about that later.) 

It’s quiet in the hideout, the only sound being Jay’s occasional snores. (He's been working on sleeping silently, though he hasn’t mastered it yet. Noise attracts attention, attention attracts enemies.) 

(They had learned that the hard way.) 

In the silence of the morning air, Carlos closes his eyes and lets out a slow sigh. Laying in the relative safety of their hideout, surrounded by his (not friends, not allowed) gang as the sunlight filters through the windows onto his cold face, Carlos can almost pretend that everything is fine. He can almost pretend that Jay isn’t scrambling every day to steal enough goods to avoid his father’s wrath. He can almost pretend that Evie isn’t starving herself half the time to meet her mother’s impossible expectations. He can almost pretend that Mal isn’t severely beaten by her mother over the slightest disappointments. He can almost pretend that he isn’t a slave to his own mother’s ruthless command. He can almost pretend that they aren't trapped on an island. (He can almost pretend that they are normal.) 

(He can almost pretend that they are free.) 

Carlos allows himself to feel this fleeting moment of peace. A rare, tranquil moment where he can just exist. No blood, no bruises, no shouting fathers or shrieking mothers, no agonized screams or pained whimpers. Everything he needs is right here in this hideout (not his home) with Mal, Evie, and Jay (not his friends). 

(Is this how the people of Auradon feel?) 

(No. They can’t feel true peace until they’ve known true chaos.) 

Carlos lets his eyes flutter open, steeling himself for the day ahead as he stretches, extending his arms and legs. 

And that is when his illusion of peace is shattered. 

(It was nice while it lasted.) 

He expects to feel Evie’s legs rub against his own as he stretches and startles when he feels nothing but air. His head snaps down and he looks to where he had seen Evie settle on the floor before his eyes had drooped shut. She’s not there. 

Carlos springs into a low crouch as he scans the area for immediate threats. He doesn’t see any, straining his ears for any sign of movement. Nothing. 

With no present danger, Carlos relaxes slightly as he stands from his defensive position. He turns hastily to wake Mal but stops himself at the last second as he sees her face. 

Her split lip is beginning to heal, the blood dried and the swelling less severe. The bruises on her cheeks are still prominent, as are the fingerprints across her jaw. But the splattering of black and blue isn’t what makes him pause. 

She looks so...young. Her face is relaxed, free of her piercing glare, intimidating growl, and even her signature smirk. None of her fronts are present, no brave façade or ruthless exterior or mischievous cover. It’s just Mal. (It’s easy to forget that his leader, the person he would follow to hell and back, is only two years older than him.) 

(You have to grow up fast on the Isle.) 

Carlos _hates_ that he has to break Mal out of her rare peaceful state, that he has to drag her back to reality (to scorched skin and beaten backs and endless pain) but it’s _Evie._

(She’s a part of his...whatever...too.) 

He calls out the purple-haired girl’s name, “Mal?” 

She doesn’t stir. 

Sighing, he gently shakes her shoulder (touching Mal while she is asleep never ends well, and it’s something he avoids doing for her sake more than his). He’s careful not to jostle her injuries but he has to act quickly. He doesn’t know how long Evie has been missing or what kind of trouble she could be in. 

“Mal? Mal, wake up. It’s an emergency.” 

Mal’s eyes flicker open, taking a moment to adjust to the light. It’s a testament to how exhausted she is that Carlos has time to withdraw his hand himself, that she hasn’t lashed out reflexively at the contact. As he lets her cloudy eyes focus on her surroundings, he lightly kicks Jay’s leg. Immediately the older boy is sitting upright, his fist drawn back in attack while his other hand comes forward to deflect any incoming blows.

(Waking up to physical touch isn’t any of their fortes he supposes.) 

A split second later, Jay’s gaze falls on Carlos. Seeing his relaxed position causes the son of Jafar’s hands to lower as he realizes there is no immediate danger, but he’s springing to his feet as he takes in Carlos’s worried expression. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by a groggy voice. 

“’Los?” 

Their eyes snap to Mal whose irises have finally cleared, though a sharp intake of air passes through her clenched teeth as her mind seems to catch up to her body. 

“Evie is gone.” 

That gets a reaction. 

Jay jerks his head to the side, looking around Carlos to see Evie’s vacant spot at the other end of the table. His eyes dart quickly around the room but it’s no use. There’s no trace of her. He swears under his breath. 

Mal’s eyes glow green, and while it isn’t as intense as usual and only lasts a brief moment, it’s a start. (It’s much better than the dull, lifeless look she had possessed when they found her.) 

“Do you think someone took her?” Jay asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t know,” Carlos admits truthfully. There isn’t any sign of a struggle but he doesn’t know why Evie would leave so suddenly without warning. Nothing seems to be missing, though Carlos doesn’t need to check. He knows Evie and she would never cut and run. (Maybe from other people, but not from them. Not from him.) 

(It’s not loyalty. It’s not.) 

Jay curses again, his frown deepening. 

“Either way, she’s missing.” 

Carlos and Jay turn their attention back to Mal. She’s pushing herself up, a pained grunt escaping her lips, and Carlos’s fingers twitch as he resists the urge to reach out. He wants to help but he knows Mal. She won’t accept it, especially not after last night. 

She struggles to a sitting position, dangling her legs over the edge of the table. Carlos can tell Jay is mentally checking her injuries, his eyes roaming over her body. Carlos wants to do the same, but he and Jay have a system. Mal is as stubborn as they come and if she realized that they were both examining her, she would raise her walls even higher. So, Carlos keeps her attention while Jay subtly assesses her wounds and later they will swap information and decide the best way to keep an eye on her. 

(Mal is cunning, but so are they.) 

“So, what do we do?” Carlos questions, maintaining eye contact with Mal. He feels Jay shift beside him as he finishes scrutinizing Mal's injuries, his gaze returning to her face, looking to her for guidance. Carlos holds his breath. 

“We find her.” 

Jay nearly snorts at the obvious answer but Carlos can tell that the boy is just as relieved as he is. Carlos didn’t know how kindly Mal would take to Evie once she was in a more sober state. After what Maleficent did to her in Evie’s name, well...Carlos had feared that the potential for any sort of relationship between the two of them had been crushed. Part of him had been scared that Mal would kick Evie out herself, out of fear or anger, he wasn’t sure. (And he would understand. He’d fight her on it, he wouldn’t like it, it wouldn’t be fair, but he would _understand_.) 

But looking at her now, Carlos sees something has changed. Her eyes no longer carry a forced tolerance or irritated disinterest for the other girl. There’s a look there that he can’t quite place and he makes a mental note to ask her about it later. 

“Yeah that’s the goal,” Jay agrees, rolling his eyes slightly to mask his relief. “But how? She could be anywhere on the island.” 

Mal’s gaze locks on Carlos, “Are there any p-places she would go t-to specifically?” 

The stutter, while dramatically less obvious and less consistent, is still present. Carlos shares a subtle glance with Jay. Her injuries are still severe if talking is straining her throat. They’ll have to address that later, too. 

Carlos wracks his brain, thinking back to all of the locations he and Evie used to meet at. Four years’ worth of secluded alleys and abandoned rooftops come to mind. 

“There’s the old clocktower to the east near Ginny Gothel’s house, or the roof of Gaston’s bar on the south side,” Carlos lists the locations off with his fingers. “She could also be at the abandoned shack by the coast or the alley right behind Hans’s Royalty Emporium. There’s always the marketplace, too, if she wanted to hide in plain sight.” 

He looks at Mal and Jay, his eyes turning a shade darker, “I don’t think she would go home unless she absolutely had to, but it’s a possibility.” 

They nod solemnly as they absorb the new information. 

“Okay,” Mal says decisively. “So we s-split up—” 

“I’m sorry, we?” Jay interrupts, raising his eyebrows. 

Mal’s gaze snaps to his, a glare already forming. “You have a problem w-with that?” 

Jay scoffs, unfolding his arms to gesture pointedly at Mal’s bruised body. “Yeah, Mal, a little bit! You were just beaten to a pulp by your mom, there’s no way I’m letting you—” 

Mal hops off the table, her feet landing solidly on the concrete below. But Carlos can see past the demonstration, notices the way her hands clench into fists before opening again, how her jaw tightens against the pain, the slight buckle of her knees as she stands by herself for the first time since they’d found her. Yet somehow the bruises marring her skin and the stark white bandages covering her body only seem to add to her imposing figure. 

“I’m n-not asking for your permission.” 

She stands toe-to-toe with Jay and while she’s several inches shorter than him, her presence is just as intimidating. 

“Guys,” Carlos calls, trying to break their intense stare down. “Come on, this isn’t helping.” 

They ignore him for a moment, Mal’s eyes flashing green in warning while Jay’s lip curls before Mal huffs and takes a small step back, leaning against the table. 

(Now for the hard part.) 

“Mal, I know you want to help but—” 

“Seriously, Carlos? You cannot ask m-me to—” 

“Hear me out, okay?” Carlos pleads exasperatedly. “You’re hurt—” 

Mal opens her mouth to protest but Carlos won’t have it. 

(We don’t have time for this.) 

He shoots his hand forward, stopping mere centimeters from Mal’s wrist, and she flinches back. 

(No time for guilt. Not allowed.) 

“See?” Carlos sighs. “And your stutter is still there. Deny it all you want, but you’re not fooling anyone, Mal.” 

Mal growls but they both know it’s the truth. She can’t expose her fragile state to the Isle, it’s too dangerous. Other gangs could capitalize on the weakness and even a bold loner might try to cause trouble. Carlos can tell that he’s getting to her. 

“Let Jay and I search for Evie, okay?” 

Mal scowls at him for a moment before she releases a frustrated sigh and turns away with an eyeroll. 

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. But you guys b-better be back by sundown” 

(He’ll take it.) 

Carlos feels like he can breathe again, sighing in relief before turning to Jay. 

“The Castle-Across-the-Way is right down the street from Hell Hall on the south side, so I'll check there and Gaston’s, along with the abandoned shack,” Carlos decides. He isn’t looking forward to climbing the castle wall to Evie’s room, afraid of risking the Evil Queen’s wrath, but living across from Evie meant that he knew her castle better than Jay. (Better than anyone honestly, considering the girl had been banished five years ago.) 

Jay’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if he’s mentally running through his route. “Okay, so I'll get the clocktower and the alley. I’ll swing by the marketplace on my way.” 

Mal hops back onto the table nonchalantly but Carlos can tell she bites back a gasp of pain as the movement sends jolts up her spine. He watches her muscles tense before relaxing again as she says, “If you find her, bring her back here. I don’t care if she’s kicking and screaming, it’s not safe for her on her own anymore now that Uma’s spread the news.” 

Carlos’s eyes linger on Mal while Jay nods and goes to the far room to pick out a weapon from their makeshift armory of scavenged items. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Carlos steps closer to Mal, eyeing her with slight confusion. 

“When we left you a week ago, you could barely stand Evie. Six days pass and now you’re endorsing a search party?” Carlos’s words aren’t accusatory, simply curious, if not slightly suspicious. “What happened?” 

Mal meets his eyes calmly as she gives him a casual shrug, “Six days happened.” 

Carlos scoffs, though it’s out of humor more than anything. He knows it takes a while for Mal to open up (respects her enough not to push). “Well, that’s vague.” 

Mal’s lips quirk at him before her eyes turn more serious, “Look, I’ll t-tell you about it when you get b-back.” 

Carlos raises an eyebrow. 

“I _will,_ ” she emphasizes, chuckling as she smacks him on the shoulder. “But r-right now, you should go find her.” 

(And he _will_ hold her to that.) 

“Okay, fine,” Carlos holds his hands up in defeat, and for a second he feels like he had this morning. 

(Peaceful.) 

Mal smirks at him triumphantly for a moment before her eyes fill with uncertainty. She swings her legs slightly as she directs her gaze to the floor, biting her lip absentmindedly despite the healing split, before looking back up at him. “’Los...” her tone is almost timid and Carlos knows where this is going. 

He lays a hand gently on her shoulder and looks at her warmly, flashing her a smile. Her eyes flood with relief as she gives him an appreciative smile and a grateful nod (like she always does after she’s spent a night screaming from present pain or past demons). The words go unspoken but not unheard. 

(Thank you.) 

Jay returns from the other room, tucking a rusted knife into his boot as he looks at Carlos and cocks his head towards the stairs. Carlos moves to follow, sighing as he checks his belt for his own knife. Before falling asleep, Carlos had slipped his belt back on, ignoring the imprints Mal’s teeth had left in the leather and sliding a knife between the belt and his pants to be safe. 

(Just because no one has broken into the hideout yet doesn’t mean he can let his guard down.) 

(Good boy, Carlos, be a good boy—) 

“Hey,” Mal calls as they reach the doorway. Carlos turns around just in time to see something red flying to his left. 

Jay snatches the beanie from the air with a lopsided smile, glancing at Mal (more unspoken words) before pulling the hat over his head. 

“Before s-sundown,” Mal reminds them. 

Jay gives her a lazy mock salute but his hardened eyes betray his seriousness. Carlos nods as he promises, “We’ll get her back.” 

Mal returns the nod and then Carlos and Jay are passing out the doorway, going up the four steps leading to the small section of floor before the outside staircase begins. 

“So, what did you think?” Carlos questions as they pass through the second doorway leading outside, beginning their descent down the stairs. 

“There’s flecks of blood already showing on the bandage of her right wrist and her movements are stiff. She’s avoiding rotating her neck, turning her whole body instead. And I know you heard the stutter, too,” Jay says grimly. Carlos sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“You know how Mal is. How are we going to keep her off the streets long enough for her to recover?” 

Jay shakes his head as they wind down the stairs. “Honestly? I don’t know. She’s never come back this bad. Mal’s good at hiding it, but you saw the burns. I don’t know how she could stand, maybe because there's no broken bones this time, but she shouldn’t be moving.” 

Carlos stays silent for a moment as he thinks. Mal has always been stubborn. Sometimes he thinks she runs on pure force of will. But her screams echo in his ears (a sound he will never forget) and her burns flash before his eyes (black, white, red, his favorite colors twisted into a canvas of ruin) and he knows willpower can only do so much. 

He hesitates, almost scared to ask his next question. 

“Do you think she’s going to make it?” 

Jay falters, his steps slowing imperceptibly before he resumes his pace, eyes grim. “If we can keep away infection, then I'd say we have a good shot. We’re lucky the burns on her throat weren’t as bad as the ones on her wrist.” 

Carlos grimaces as he remembers the bone he could see through the back of Mal’s wrist and the other gaps of skin that were just gone. Imagining the same degree of damage on her neck makes Carlos shudder. Images of burns so deep he could see the inside of Mal’s throat flash before his eyes and he has to stop his mind from wandering down that road. She would’ve been dead before they found her. 

As they reach the bottom of the stairs, Carlos feels Jay’s shoulder bump against his own. He looks at the older boy and is shocked to see the rare, barely masked affection in his eyes. Jay’s small smile is playful but genuine and Carlos finds himself trying to memorize how he looks. (Peaceful.) 

“Hey,” Jay says lightly though the meaning is deep, “it’s Mal. She’ll pull through.” 

Carlos finds he can only nod in agreement. If anyone can do it, it’s Mal. 

Jay claps him on the shoulder, meeting his eyes intentionally. “You did good last night, Carlos.” 

And then he’s taking off through the narrow alleys, heading to his first search location. 

Carlos stands there for a moment as warmth spreads through his chest. For once, his mother’s voice doesn’t ring in his ears. Not good boy, just good. 

(You did good last night, Carlos.) 

He finds that he likes hearing the praise coming from Jay’s mouth much better. 

And then Carlos sets off in a sprint towards the south side of the Isle as the warmth in his chest turns to fire. 

He’s going to bring Evie back and restore the fragile sense of peace. (The peace he had felt this morning. The peace he had felt with Mal. The peace he had felt with Jay.) 

Carlos feels the fire burn brighter as he finally accepts the thought he’s been having for a while now, the thought that was solidified by last night’s emotions and this morning’s interactions. 

(These are his _friends_ , rules be damned, and he is going to fight for them.) 

(The word feels right, but a deeper one comes to mind. He pushes that one away for now, but doesn’t forget it.) 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had a long and hard debate over what I was going to do with this chapter and who I was going to have find Evie, and then this update just kind of wrote itself haha. I hope you all like it!
> 
> Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, child abuse, mentions of assault/rape

The wooden table is scraping against her bare stomach. Mal sighs in frustration as she tries to get comfortable. Carlos and Jay had tried to move her to the couch last night but it had been too soft, her body sinking into the cracked leather, causing her back to twinge and arch awkwardly. So, she resumed her residency on the hard table, the boys refusing to sleep away from her despite her protests. Even Evie had taken the floor, the three of them surrounding her in a show of protection. Mal didn't know how to feel about that. 

(She didn't like it. It made her weak. She didn't like it.) 

(Liar.) 

Mal growls and she pushes the thoughts away, shifting again as the rough wood scratches her stomach. “That’s it,” she mutters as she moves to slide off the table. 

Her boots meet the concrete and she bites back a whimper as her back protests. (She’s fine. She isn’t weak. She’s fine.) 

She walks towards the couch where her leather bag is sitting. Looking at it, she vaguely remembers black and white clothes and art supplies, then blue hair and twisting alleyways. It’s all kind of a blur. (It had all been background noise compared to the pain.) 

Carlos had mentioned something about packing all of her necessities and Mal smirks as she pulls out a few pieces of charcoal and some scraps of paper. She’s touched by his thoughtfulness, though she’ll never admit it. She sets the objects aside as she rummages through the contents of the bag. 

Mal winces as her wrist knocks against her various possessions, pain shooting up her arm. She grits her teeth and ignores it as she continues to dig. (Pain is weakness.) 

She finally pulls a t-shirt out, the purple of the fabric speckled with flecks of black and white as if someone splattered tiny bits of paint onto the material. She holds it in her hands for a moment as she steels herself. 

(It’s just a shirt, Mal. Just put on the damn shirt.) 

She lifts her arms over her head and instantly her body protests. Her shoulders twinge at the movement and her back stings. She can feel a few of the gashes reopening and hopes that they don’t bleed enough to show through the bandages. She takes a deep breath as she stands with her arms raised, the shirt open above her. 

(What’s that saying in Auradon? Ripping off the bandage?) 

(She doesn’t know why someone would waste a bandage like that, but she’ll never understand anything the people of Auradon do.) 

Mal yanks the shirt over her head and shoves her arms through the sleeves before she can think twice. She can’t contain her yelp of pain as the clothing brushes against her neck and her wrists skim the insides of the fabric. She freezes, her body tensing as she shuts her eyes. 

(So, maybe that wasn’t her best plan. Still, it wasn’t one of her worst.) 

She takes a few moments to compose herself, not daring to move until the pain dies down to a low simmer. (It’s a raging inferno, but she can pretend it’s a low simmer.) 

Exhaling slowly, Mal opens her eyes again and begins her short walk back to the table. She stops when her eyes land on her blood-soaked shirt lying a few feet away. 

(Evie.) 

Mal’s thoughts drift to the other girl. 

Evie is an enigma. Every time Mal thinks she has her all figured out, Evie proves her wrong. First, she was a spoiled brat who dared to exclude Mal from her birthday party. For years after, she was the banished loner who Mal enjoyed terrorizing with silent glares. Then she was a weak girl that Carlos dragged into the hideout (then she was a victim and Mal didn’t care what bad blood existed between them, no one deserved to go through that experience and someone was going to pay), a kid who needed protection. Until two days later, when she was a scarily accurate marksman who saved Mal’s life (and while she was thankful and began to put more effort into tolerating the other girl’s presence, she was also pleased to see that Evie was still very much afraid of her). 

And then Evie was the reason Maleficent was tearing into Mal's flesh. 

(And then Mother was throwing a necklace on the floor and then she was dangling by her wrists and then blood was spilling across her back and then there was pure fire scorching her skin and then—) 

(Please, I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do better! Please, please, _please_ —)

And then, somewhere amongst the crack of a scepter and the searing of flesh and the sound of screams, Mal had realized that it was not Evie’s fault she was being punished. (It was her own, she wasn’t enough, isn’t enough, will never be enough—) 

(Disappointment.) 

Deep down, Mal knows she will never live up to her mother’s expectations, especially not while trapped on the Isle with no real way to prove herself. Her mother’s approval is unattainable (yet it won’t stop her from trying and it won’t stop Maleficent from punishing her). If she’s always going to fall short of her mother’s standards, she’s going to do it on her own terms. 

One of those terms includes keeping Evie in her gang. 

Mal had a lot of time to think over the six days of her torment, though most of the thoughts had been disjointed and borderline delirious, her mind clouded by the constant presence of pain. What she had been able to piece together (between the feelings of ripping flesh and wondering if the scent of blood was coming from her back or her wrists) was that Evie needed to stay with them. 

When Uma had threatened to tell Maleficent of Evie’s acceptance into Mal’s crew, Mal had hoped the daughter of Ursula was bluffing. Once Maleficent had told Mal of the rumor, she knew Uma had been the one to spread it. It was revenge, pure and simple. But Mal doubts Uma knew how effective her revenge would be, the extent of Maleficent’s cruelty. (She’d like to think Uma wouldn’t have said anything had she known what would truly happen.) 

And once Mal realized Uma didn’t know the weight of her actions, what she had really done (it wasn’t forgiveness, not even close, but it was almost understanding), her heart had stopped as a similar memory forced its way into her mind.

The banishment of Evie and the Evil Queen had been born of Mal’s spite. She had been slighted and she wanted revenge (Isle life at its finest) and Maleficent had obliged. But just as Uma didn't know the brutality of Maleficent, Mal didn’t know the ruthlessness of the Evil Queen. All of the villains are here for a reason. For all she knows, Evil Queen could be just as vicious as Maleficent. And she had effectively locked Evie in a castle alone with her for five years. 

And even while Mal was burning alive, the thought had made her cold. 

She can’t remember when it had happened, the days blurring together in a haze of blood, bruises, and burns, but Mal had made a silent vow amidst the beatings. She couldn’t take back the past, but she could change the present. Evie was going to stay (obedience be damned). She only seemed comfortable around Carlos and Jay, so Mal would fight to keep her with them in the gang. She has a place with them (an escape). She is one of Mal’s now, and Mal protects her own. (She will find a way to hide it from Maleficent and if she can’t, then she will take whatever punishment is dealt.) 

(It seems a small price to pay for five years’ worth of isolation with a monster.) 

Except now Evie is missing and Mal can’t do anything about it. 

She’s been trying to piece together what happened. There’s no sign of forced entry into the hideout or any indication of a struggle, so it’s unlikely that Evie was taken (though anything is possible on the Isle). That only leaves one other option, but it makes no sense. Evie had to have left willingly, but everything Mal knows about the other girl screams in opposition. The shine in Evie’s eyes when Mal had accepted her into the gang, the open look of compassion when she stares at Carlos, the understanding she possesses when she glances at Jay. Mal may scare her, but not enough to make the other girl leave, especially not after last night. 

Mal shivers as she tries to repress the memories flooding her mind. Her body falling to the floor as her mother unchained her. The hissed insults and snarled threats as she tried to stand. (Weak, pathetic, disappointment, _get up—_ )

Her mother grasping her charred wrist (let go, please, it hurts, it _hurts_ —) and yanking her to her feet. Mal trying to stumble along behind Maleficent as she was pulled up the stairs, tripping and falling to her knees as her mother ordered her to move. Maleficent eventually losing her patience and increasing her pace until she was dragging Mal’s struggling body along the floor as she tried to regain her footing. (Stone steps bombarding her back and blood leaking onto the floor as her wrist continued to burn in her mother’s tight grip—) 

Being thrown into her room as the door slammed shut, her head cracking against the ground with no strength left to stop the impact (she didn’t care anymore). Lying on the cold floor for hours, paralyzed by pain, thankful for the way the stone seemed to chill her injuries. Wondering how to prove herself to her mother, wondering how to not be a disappointment anymore (wondering what she did to deserve this). Hoping Jay, Carlos, and Evie would find her (hoping that they wouldn't because she can't protect them in this state, because she doesn't want them anywhere near her mother). And the voice in the back of her head whispering that it would just be so much easier to stop fighting. (You will never be enough, you are a disappointment, even death would be better than this—) 

And then there was a whistle piercing the air outside and Mal was telling the voice to shut up long enough for her to send out her own signal. (Jay, Carlos, Evie. She needed to live, if not for herself, then for them.) 

Her eyes were clamped shut (afraid she would see iron chains and dungeon walls again) but she could hear three figures landing on her balcony. But as they got closer, she smelled smoke on their clothes and while she knew it was not the same kind of fire, the scent pulled her back into a world of burning flesh and blistering skin. (Not again, please. I’ll do better—) 

Then Carlos was talking and she was back in the present. Her eyes were opening and he and Jay were at her side and she felt like crying. Trying to call Evie’s name and stuttering over the letters, the other girl ignoring the show of weakness and shortening Mal’s own name. Handing Evie the necklace as some sort of peace offering (the look of horror on Evie’s face that she didn’t understand and something deeper that she couldn’t place). 

Everything after that is a blur. She remembers pain as she was lifted and set back down before being hauled upright again. She remembers staircases and darkness and flashes of lightning. (She remembers the dungeon door and _please no, don’t make me go down there, I’ll do better, I promise, just please—_ ) 

Then there was cold sleet and winding alleys and more pain as her wounds strained against the boys' movements. The sound of a rock hitting metal and then her back was on something hard. Snarky remarks and witty comments to cover her fear. A shirt being pulled over her head, hands on her shoulders and ankles, a whispered apology. 

Excruciating agony, liquid fire, endless torment. (Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream—) 

Until her bra was unclasped and suddenly the pain was background noise. 

_A hand on her mouth covering her cries—_

_Her bra coming off, lips trailing their way down her body—_

_Fingers unzipping her pants as tears slid down her face—_

_(I don’t want it, I don’t_ _want it_ _, I don’t want it—)_

Soft brown eyes and long hair and gentle words as a careful hand cups her cheek. (Jay.) 

Small fingers in her own and whispered promises and a bloodshot gaze. (Carlos.) 

And a few feet away, blue hair, sad eyes watching with something like longing as green met brown and there was that look again, something deeper, something Evie was trying to cover up because it wasn’t allowed on the Isle, something like— 

“S-son of a bitch,” Mal whispers. 

The look Evie had when Mal returned her necklace, the look she had when she took Mal’s shirt off, the look she had when she was staring at the three of them. It was the same look every time, the same forbidden emotion.

(Guilt.)

Everything falls into place. Evie thinks it’s her fault what happened to Mal (she should have known, as her mother locked her into a living hell, she had thought the same thing.) 

(If only she could tell Evie that the only one responsible for her punishment is herself.) 

Mal sighs, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She feels her wrists burn as she clenches her hands into fists. 

(This is a terrible idea.) 

And then she turns to pick up her leather jacket. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! Sorry that this one is a little later than usual. I had a hard time trying to make a certain idea fit and ended up scrapping it and rewriting the scene. But it’s here now, so I hope you like it! 
> 
> Warnings – Mentions of child abuse

A gust of wind cuts through the clocktower as Evie lays her head against the brick wall. Orange sunlight filters in across her face and she’s thankful for the small amount of warmth in the winter cold. 

(She’s much warmer than she had been last night, soaked to the bone with only the moon to keep her company.) 

Evie has been sitting behind the clockface at the top of the tower long enough to watch night turn to day and back again, the sun setting low in the sky. She’s able to see most of the island from her vantage point, looking through the cracked glass to see the dreary rooftops and makeshift houses. She supposes she should be thankful to be one of the few who lives in a castle. (She’d rather sleep on the ground if it meant escaping her mother.) 

The clocktower has always been a safe haven for Evie. She and Carlos discovered it years ago, before Carlos joined Mal’s gang. They had wondered why no one had claimed the tall building. With its high vantage point and sturdy brick walls, it seemed like a prime addition to someone’s territory. However once inside, they found how easily trapped a gang would be. With the only entry and exit points at the base of the building and a limited number of hiding spots due to the clear view of the rest of the tower from the ground floor, a gang would lose both the element of surprise and the ability to escape. 

But for two people? The clocktower made a perfect hideout. 

Evie’s heart pangs as she remembers the look of excitement in Carlos’s eyes when they had climbed to the top for the first time.

* * *

 _“Wow,” Carlos breathes as he clambers onto the wooden scaffolding, coming alongside Evie._

_He steps forward, his feet moving from wood to brick as he shuffles into the alcove behind the clockface. He raises his hand and lays it on the glass surface, barely pressing against it as if it’s going to shatter. The Isle is blanketed in darkness, a few dim lights lighting up the sky from the ground as stars shine above._

_“It’s almost beautiful, isn’t it?” Evie asks as she stares at the streets below. They’re so high up that they can barely make out the people roaming the island, shadowed in the cover of night. She can almost pretend that they don’t even exist. (That’s why it’s so beautiful.)_

_In the quiet of the clocktower, Evie can pretend that the alleys below aren’t filled with murderous villains or spiteful gangs. It’s almost l_ _ike_ _the streets aren’t crowded with trash and the houses aren’t made of rotting wood. Looking out to_ _Auradon_ _in the distance, she can pretend that she isn’t on the Isle of the Lost._

_“Yeah,” Carlos murmurs, his voice wonderstruck but his eyes sad. “Almost.”_

_The words go unsaid._

_(Almost, but not quite.)_

* * *

Evie takes in a shuddering breath as she forces the memory from her mind. No use dwelling on past lives. (She left. She can’t let herself see Carlos again. She can’t risk his safety.) 

Leaving was for the best. She was endangering all of them by staying. Mal went missing for six days because of Evie’s simple existence, and then she returned with the most severe injuries Evie has ever seen. If the Mistress of Evil could do that to her own daughter, what would she do to Carlos and Jay? She will not let anyone else be punished on her behalf. 

(She can’t say it doesn’t hurt.) 

She has to avoid them at all costs. No more casual walks with Jay or secret meetings with Carlos. Dodging Mal won’t be any different than before. (Except it will be because everything is different than before.) 

(She’s more alone than she’s ever been.) 

Evie feels the tears welling up in her eyes again. Last night she had refused to cry until she was out of the hideout. But as soon as she had stepped onto the streets, the tears began to stream down her face, mixing with the sleet pelting her skin. Once she had made it to the clocktower, she had collapsed to her knees, sobbing in the solidarity of the empty space. 

She thought she had cried all of her tears hours ago, but she proves herself wrong as she feels a stinging sensation behind her eyes. She squeezes them shut to prevent any more water from gathering and exhales shakily. (You did this to yourself, to them. You are poison—) 

“That d-disappointed to see me, princess?” 

Evie’s eyes fly open and her head snaps to her right. Standing slightly below her, perched on the rung of a wooden ladder, is Mal. There’s a faint sheen of sweat across her forehead but her signature smirk is in place as she continues her climb to the top of the tower. 

“What are you doing here?” Evie asks incredulously. Not twenty-four hours ago, they had found Mal on the floor of her castle. Her screams still echo in Evie’s ears. Someone in that much pain should not be climbing a clocktower hundreds of feet high. 

Mal reaches the top of the ladder and swings herself onto the wooden planks of the scaffolding across from Evie’s alcove. Her legs dangle off the edge as her eyes lose some of their mirth, her easygoing smirk sliding off her face. “I’m here to b-bring you back to the hideout.” 

Evie tries to hide her shock, her eyes hardening instead. She can see the white edges of Mal’s bandages peeking over the collar of her shirt. “You shouldn’t be up.” 

Mal raises an eyebrow at her, “And you shouldn’t be here.” 

Evie scoffs (ignores the way her heart aches in agreement), “I’m better off alone.” 

“Bullshit,” Mal counters. The challenge causes panic to race through Evie’s veins. She wasn’t expecting any resistance, least of all from Mal. This is exactly the reason why she left while they were asleep. She didn't want anyone coming after her. (The only way to keep them away is to make them hate her, and selfishly she had hoped she could avoid that.) 

She forces a dark look on her face, clenching her fists as her lip curls into a snarl, “Don’t you have a mom you should be disappointing right about now?” 

Mal flinches at her words and Evie has to ignore the way her stomach turns. She sees a look of hurt flash across Mal’s face before it’s quickly covered by the quirk of her lips. 

“T-trust me, I have plenty of t-time to do that later,” Mal jokes, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Evie’s heart clenches at the sight of the other girl. (The truth of the statement cuts deep.) 

“But right now, I have a p-princess in need of s-saving.” 

Evie shakes her head, masking her sadness with anger. Mal doesn’t understand. 

(She doesn’t need to be saved.) 

( _They_ need to be saved from _her._ )

She turns away from Mal, instead looking out of the glass clockface to the island below. The sun is slipping under the horizon and the dim glow of makeshift lights illuminates the rundown houses and winding streets. She focuses on one of the distant lights as she speaks. 

(She can’t bear to look at Mal as she forces the words out of her mouth.) 

“I’m not some damsel in distress. And if I were, you wouldn’t be able to save me. You’d have to do better than this, and you can’t.” 

She hears Mal’s sharp intake of breath behind her and Evie squeezes her eyes shut to stop the stinging sensation. Hearing Mal’s terrified and delirious pleas as they were escaping the castle had given Evie an insight into what Mal’s weaknesses are. (She hates herself for using them.) 

(Leave. Please. Before I have to make it worse.) 

“You’re right,” Mal says quietly. “I can’t. And that’s o-on me.” 

Evie’s breath stutters as she hears the creaking of wood behind her. Mal is leaving. Evie closes her eyes again as her tears finally fall onto her cheeks. 

(She hates you. She’ll get Carlos and Jay to hate you. You’ll be alone.) 

(This is what you wanted, right?) 

Suddenly there’s a calloused finger pressing gently against her jaw and Evie’s eyes snap open as her head is turned from the window. 

Mal is kneeling next to her, staring intently into her eyes, “I s-said that’s on me. Not on you.” 

Evie’s mouth gapes, opening and closing as she tries to find words to say. (This isn’t what was supposed to happen. Mal is supposed to leave. She’s supposed to hate you.) 

(So why is she staring at you like that?) 

“My punishment was b-because of _my_ weakness and my weakness alone. It was not your fault, E.” 

The tears are streaming down Evie’s face and she knows that Mal has seen right through her façade (and something breaks inside of her when she realizes the nickname is being used as a show of strength rather than a sign of weakness). The burning honesty of Mal’s words and the raw conviction in her eyes causes Evie’s heart to break. Mal is blaming herself for something that is Evie’s fault. 

She can’t fool Mal, can’t push her away with hateful words or empty threats. Honesty is her last defense, the only way she can protect Mal, Carlos, and Jay from herself. (One last chance.) 

“But it was! It was, Mal. Your mom beat you because you dared to even _associate_ with me _._ I can’t stay after that. I’m putting you in danger!”

(Mal has to believe her. She can’t let anyone else get hurt. )

“No,” Mal denies, shaking her head. “My mother p-punished me because I’m not enough. That’s the reality of the s-situation.” 

Evie’s heart is being torn in two. Doesn’t Mal see what Evie is doing to her? Evie hurt her and Mal is still taking the blame. 

(Wrong, wrong, wrong—) 

“Don’t you get it?” Evie cries hysterically. “Listen to yourself! You hated me two weeks ago, now I've hurt you and you think it’s your fault. That’s what I do. I twist the truth until you don't know what's real. I was raised to manipulate so much that I don’t even know when I'm doing it anymore! I’m poison, Mal!” 

She waits for the look of realization to dawn on Mal’s face. She waits for the disgust, for the rejection, for the betrayal in her eyes. 

(Now she sees you for what you truly are.)

(Your mother's daughter.) 

But Mal doesn’t turn away. She doesn’t look at Evie like she’s a monster. 

(She should.) 

The fingers fall from her jaw and take her hand instead.

“That is _not_ your f-fault either,” Mal says vehemently. “That’s mine. I locked you alone w-with your mother for five years. Whatever she raised you to be, whatever l-lies she fed you, that is on _me_.”

Evie shakes her head. That’s not true. The fact that Mal believes it to be is proof that Evie can’t be trusted. 

(She can’t trust herself.) 

She looks away from Mal, averting her eyes in shame. 

“That’s not—” 

Mal’s other hand returns to Evie’s jaw, forcing her to look at her. 

“It is,” Mal nods. “You were alone f-for five years. Whatever your m-mother did, however _she_ manipulated _you,_ is not your fault. It’s mine. I can’t change it, but I p-plan on making things right.” 

The tears continue to flow down Evie’s face as Mal’s words chip at her walls. She knows Mal is not to blame, desperately wishes the other girl would stop saying so. But everything else...is it possible that Evie isn’t destructive? Is it possible that she doesn’t ruin everything she touches? 

She forces herself to stare into Mal’s eyes, searching them intensely. 

(She was raised to read people, after all.) 

Mal’s eyes are clear. They’re fiery, they’re adamant, they burn bright with conviction, but most importantly, they’re clear. They don’t hold that haze of infatuation or the cloudiness of ignorance that is prevalent in the victims of Evie’s manipulation. She isn’t falling for one of Evie’s tricks, she’s speaking her own thoughts, uninfluenced of deceit. Mal is being honest. 

(Is it possible that she isn't—) 

“I know you, Evie,” Mal insists. “I might have hated you a couple weeks ago, but I know _you_. You are not the poison you think you are.” 

Evie feels like breaking down. Her mother’s words, her lessons, everything begins to fade to the background. Mal knows her. Not the mask she hides behind or the front she projects, but her. Evie. 

(She’s not even sure who she is anymore, what that means, but Mal seems to.)

(And somehow, some way, she's come to trust Mal.)

Evie's lip trembles as she begins to sob. Her body shakes as her walls come crashing down. Part of her wants to bury her head in her hands, is disgusted with this open display of weakness. The other part of her can’t find it in her to care. 

Mal shuffles closer, keeping their fingers intertwined as she silently rubs circles into Evie’s hand with her thumb. Distantly, Evie remembers that this is what Carlos had done for Mal the other night. 

She doesn’t speak, letting Evie break down in silence, not close enough to feel uncomfortable but not far enough to feel distant. 

Evie doesn’t know how long they sit like that in the quiet of the clocktower. Long enough for the sun to have disappeared beneath the horizon. 

Her sobs die down to shuddering breaths and her tears are no longer flooding down her face, the water droplets simply falling occasionally. She wipes her eyes and feels Mal’s averted gaze return to her. 

Evie doesn’t let her hopes soar too high just yet. This doesn’t change the fact that while she may not be a danger to them emotionally, she still is physically. 

“What about Carlos and Jay?” Evie asks, her voice watery. “They broke Maleficent’s orders too. If I stay, it’s only a matter of time before she goes after them.” 

Mal bites her lip and Evie realizes that this is Mal's biggest doubt, her greatest fear. Still, her voice is confident when she promises, “I will handle that, o-okay? Carlos and Jay will be fine.” 

Evie’s eyes narrow at the other girl. She doesn’t miss the way that Mal neglects to include herself in that group. 

“And what about you?” 

Mal averts her eyes and opens her mouth to speak, but the loss of eye contact is answer enough for Evie. 

“No,” Evie says forcefully. “I’m not staying if there’s even a slight chance of this happening again—” 

“Evie,” Mal says softly, her eyes returning to Evie’s own. There’s a sad smile on her face and she gives a small shrug, “This will happen again, regardless of you. I’m going to disappoint my mom n-no matter what. Might as well be on my o-own terms.” 

Evie opens her mouth to argue but no words come out. Maleficent is going to punish Mal despite how hard she tries to meet her expectations. And worse, Mal seems to have accepted it. 

(What can she say to that?) 

“So please, come back. The boys miss you,” Mal says honestly. She swallows hard before glancing at Evie almost timidly. “I miss you.” 

Mal looks as vulnerable as Evie has ever seen her. Her signature smirk is missing, replaced by a shy and hopeful smile. Her eyes are unguarded, showing Evie the depths of her emotions. And her thumb is still rubbing circles subconsciously into Evie’s hand. 

(This battle was lost before it even began.) 

“Okay,” Evie says softly. 

Mal’s small smile grows as she repeats the word back, “Okay?” 

A watery laugh escapes Evie’s mouth and she nods as a few tears slip down her face. “Yeah, M. I’ll come back.” 

Mal beams at her and Evie can’t help but smile back. 

“Alright then,” Mal says happily, “Let’s get you b-back to the hideout.” 

She stands and Evie notices with mild horror the way she winces as her back bends. Evie had completely forgotten about Mal’s injuries in the heat of the moment. 

“Mal!” Evie rushes to her feet, steadying the other girl as she stumbles slightly. “What were you thinking? You’re still hurt!” 

Mal flashes her that cocky smirk and remarks, “I was thinking that I n-needed to find a certain princess b-before sundown.” 

Evie raises an eyebrow at her and glances to the left at the glass she has been staring out of all day where the sun has long since disappeared beneath the horizon. From the clockface in the alcove opposite of the one they stand in, Evie can see the moon beginning its slow ascent. 

Mal follows her gaze and her eyes widen almost comically. 

“Oh shit.” 

Evie nearly laughs except she has a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Mal, where are the guys?” 

Mal chews on her lip before giving Evie a sheepish smile. “They left to look for you this m-morning. I k-kind of told them to be back at the hideout by s-sundown and then I kind of snuck out t-to look for you myself.” 

She looks at Mal incredulously. 

(Of course the boys wouldn’t have let Mal leave, she should have known.) 

She opens her mouth to speak when two panicked voices echo up the tower. 

“Mal?” 

“Evie?” 

Mal closes her eyes and grimaces as she raises her arm to point jerkily towards the sound. “That would be them.” 

Evie rolls her eyes and shouts, “We’re here guys.” 

“Evie!” Carlos shouts again and Evie’s heart warms at the sound of his voice. 

“We’re c-coming down, ‘Los!” Mal yells in return. She crosses the plank connecting the bricked alcove to the wooden scaffolding and grips the rungs of the ladder before glancing back towards Evie. “You coming, E?” 

Evie feels an irresistible tug at the corners of her lips as the warmth in her chest spreads. “Yeah, M. I’m coming.” 

They make it halfway down, walking across another beam to get to the ladder on the next platform, when a grunt of pain sounds from the ground floor as Carlos’s voice cries, “Jay!” 

Mal pushes Evie against the brick wall and into the shadows, away from the open center of the clocktower. She signals for Evie to stay quiet. 

There’s a flurry of footsteps coming from below and she can make out Jay’s heavy breathing. 

“Looks like you boys wandered into the wrong territory,” a female voice taunts. It turns aggressive as she snarls lowly, “The east side is mine.” 

Evie pales. This is the only reason she and Carlos hadn’t made a permanent hideout of the tower. It might not be occupied immediately, but it's still in one gang’s territory, and their leader doesn't like to share. Evie's eyes widen as she meets Mal’s, who takes in a sharp breath. 

Ginny Gothel. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest I’ve gone without updating and I’m so so sorry! Work has been scheduling me more than usual and while the money is nice, it makes it hard to have down time, hang out with friends, and find time to write secretly haha. Also I’m just about to graduate this week, so it’s been crazy. Sadly it’s probably going to be more of a once a week update schedule now (hopefully I can stick to it), but hopefully the wait will be worth it! 
> 
> I’m not going to lie, I’ve had this chapter done for a while now, but I’ve been putting off editing and taking time to fix typos and the weird spacing problem that keeps happening, but it’s here finally! 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, depictions of violence/blood

Evie's heart is pounding in her chest as Mal tenses in front of her. Jay’s pained breathing mixes with a set of footsteps as Carlos's growl echoes up the clocktower.

“Ginny,” Carlos’s voice is hard and Evie shivers as she imagines his mask slipping into place. Carlos may be the youngest and he may have a soft spot for the gang, but Evie knows he has perfected a truly terrifying persona. (Blank face, emotionless, unfeeling—) 

(Callous.) 

“Where’s your fearless leader, de Vil?” Ginny mocks. “I heard an interesting rumor the other day and I've been dying to find out if it’s true.” 

Evie hears Carlos growl and she can imagine him baring his teeth. 

Mal silently snaps her arm forward and a knife slides out of her sleeve and into her hand. Evie startles and looks at Mal with wide eyes. (Where did that come from?) 

The other girl simply shrugs before flipping the knife around, offering the handle to Evie. 

Evie shakes her head, pushing the object back towards Mal. 

(You need it more than I do.) 

Mal frowns before grabbing Evie’s wrist and forcefully shoving the hilt into her hand. She points to her own wrists and Evie realizes with a start that her hands are shaking. It dawns on her that the burns are making Mal’s hands unsteady. Evie suspects that if another knife were to clash against Mal’s, the vibrations would knock the blade right out of her hand. 

She doesn’t like the idea of Mal being defenseless, but she takes the knife anyway. Mal’s shoulders deflate in relief before she turns her attention to the voices on the ground floor. Evie strains her ears as Carlos and Ginny continue to trade remarks some hundred feet below them. 

“—is in the gang or not is none of your concern,” Carlos is saying. Evie realizes with a start that they are talking about her. 

“Oh, but I think it is,” Ginny taunts. “After all, why the change of heart? Is Mal going Auradon on us?” 

Evie hears Jay’s snort and the sound of shuffling before he speaks, “Yeah, right. Back off, Ginny. I’ve been up since six and I’d like to get home and sleep.” 

Mal bites her lip at Jay’s words. She turns to Evie, holding up six fingers before pointing down. Evie nods in understanding. Six enemies. She feels her eyebrows raise in surprise at the fluent communication before shaking her head slightly. 

(Escape now, be impressed later.) 

Mal glances around at their surroundings. They’ve made it halfway down the clocktower but they’re still at least a hundred feet up, if not more. They can’t jump. She signals for Evie to follow her before slowly making her way to the ladder on the adjacent wooden platform. They move cautiously, careful not to alert Ginny and her gang of their presence. 

Evie can see the gears turning in Mal’s head as they descend. They can’t climb the whole way down or they risk losing the element of surprise. Evie suspects they can only make it so far before the sound of their movements are close enough for Ginny to detect. They’ll still be too high to jump. Evie knows Mal knows this, but the other girl pushes on. 

(Cross that bridge when you get to it.) 

She follows Mal down the clocktower, crossing wooden beams and climbing down scaffolding when the ladders end. 

Mal holds up a fist, signaling Evie to stop. They stand fifty feet high above the gang members below. Mal peeks over the edge and Evie follows suit. 

The first person she sees is Jay. He’s leaning against the wall and there’s red bleeding through his pant leg. She bites her lip when she sees something white protruding from his shin. 

Carlos is standing slightly in front of Jay, his eyes dark and a glower on his face. She sees his right hand creeping steadily towards his belt where she knows he keeps his knife, but he hasn’t revealed the weapon yet. 

Surrounding the boys are five of Ginny’s gang members and Ginny herself. The other girl’s dark frizzy hair easily distinguishes her. She’s wielding a deadly-looking scythe and grinning at Carlos like a sly cat. 

“You boys are trespassing,” she drawls. 

Mal is looking around now and Evie’s own mind is on overdrive as she blocks out the rest of the conversation, trying to figure out a way out of this mess. Six on four aren’t great odds, especially with Mal and Jay injured and debilitated. Still, the only way out is on the ground floor, through Ginny’s gang. Fighting is their only option. 

Mal has stopped moving. Evie glances at the other girl and sees her eyes are locked on something. She follows her gaze and her stomach drops.

There’s a pulley near the open center of the tower. Evie’s eyes trail down the slanted length of the rope and she finds that one end is attached to a sandbag on the scaffolding close to the ground floor near the wall. The other end is attached to a dull hook, dangling in the open air below them. 

Evie already knows what Mal is planning. 

She grips Mal's forearm, careful of her wrist, and whips her around. 

“Are you insane?” Evie whispers lowly. Mal shakes her arm out of her grip. 

“With a running s-start—” 

“Mal, that’s a good ten feet below us and twenty feet across,” Evie counters. Measurements have always come easy to her. (Too many inches around her waist, not enough around her chest—)

“I know,” Mal replies with a nod of her head. “We’re a-above it, so if I get enough m-momentum, I should be able t-to make it.”

“Even if you did, the sandbag isn’t on the ground. The rope’s going to jolt to a stop before you reach the bottom and you’ll be in free fall.”

Mal opens her mouth to fire back but the sound of a multiple weapons being drawn below steals both their attention. 

Ginny’s airy voice turns dark as she snarls, “This was a fun chat, but I’m done talking. I wonder what Mal is willing to do in return for you lives.” 

Mal bites her lip before looking back at Evie with a gleam in her eye. 

“I’ll see you d-down there, princess.” 

“Mal, no—” Evie reaches forward but Mal is already taking off. 

Evie runs after her, watching in horror as Mal sprints forward before leaping off of the scaffolding, her feet kicking off the edge as she launches herself towards the center of the clocktower. 

It feels like everything happens in slow motion. Mal freefalling as she gets closer and closer to the pulley, arms extended and hands open. Evie’s heart stops. 

And then Mal’s fingers wrap around the metal hook. She made it. 

A look of pain flashes across Mal’s face but Evie’s given no time to decipher it before the other girl’s weight is pulled down by gravity. 

The sandbag slows Mal's descent, rising rapidly as she falls. Evie watches as Mal lets go of the hook a split second before the sandbag crashes against the top of the pulley. She drops the remaining fifteen feet and lands strategically on one of Ginny’s gang members, taking him out. 

Evie can’t believe that worked. 

She hears the rope zip upwards as the sandbag falls back down, bringing the other end back to the top of the rigging. 

Evie turns away from the edge and moves back to stand against the wall, tucking Mal’s knife into her boot. She stares at the metal hook. 

“You can do this,” she mutters to herself. 

She takes a deep breath before she breaks out into a sprint, running forward and leaping off the edge just as Mal had done earlier, springing into the open air. 

Her stomach drops as gravity takes hold of her body. She’s getting closer, closer, closer— 

Evie’s hands grasp the cool metal and her knuckles turn white with the force of her grip. She drops down, waiting for the right moment to let go as the ground rapidly approaches. The sandbag whizzes past her and she knows she’s more than halfway there. 

She tries to aim for one of Ginny’s gang members as Mal had done, and then she lets go. She’s freefalling, soaring through the air as the fighting below her comes closer and closer. 

Evie's landing doesn’t go quite as smoothly as Mal’s. 

Her aim is slightly off, only one of her feet connecting with the back of a gang member. The off-balance landing doesn’t do enough to stop her momentum and Evie tumbles to the ground. Her shoulder scrapes against the wood, then her back, then her legs, as she rolls against the hard floor before jolting to a stop against the wall. 

Evie’s vision is blurry as she places her hands under her, pushing herself up. The world tilts on its axis and she has to steady herself against the wall. 

She can make out flurries of movement all around her. There's something wet on her forehead and her head is throbbing. She reaches into her boot and grabs the handle of Mal’s knife as she tries to stand. 

Suddenly there’s a hand being offered to her. Evie looks up to see Carlos standing in front of her, breathing hard. She manages to smile at him as she clasps his hand. 

“Missed you, Evie,” Carlos says with a lopsided grin as he hauls her to her feet. 

“I missed you too, Carlos, you have no idea,” Evie breathes back. 

The moment is ruined as the boy she had kicked to the ground in her attempt to cushion her fall begins to rise from the floor. Carlos gives her a quick two-finger salute before turning to his own opponent. 

Evie rushes forward and stabs at the boy’s shoulder, but he rolls to the side before springing to his feet, drawing his sword. Evie hesitates at the uneven weapon matchup. 

(Swords are longer, but knives are faster.) 

The boy swings his sword down, aiming for Evie’s torso. She barely backs up in time and winces as she feels a long, shallow cut blooming on her stomach. 

(Great, now the fabric of her dress is torn. Blood is so hard to wash out.) 

Evie brings her knife up as the boy stabs at her. She deflects the blow with her blade and steps quickly into his guard. His eyes widen as her hand wraps around his wrist to prevent him from swinging his sword. 

She flashes a sickly-sweet smile at him before slamming the hilt of her knife into his temple. He crumples to the ground. 

Evie turns, catching her breath as she takes in her surroundings. (One down, five to go.) 

Jay is to her right, using the wall to support his weight as he leans his weight on his unbroken leg. He brandishes his own knife, slashing at a girl with blonde hair. 

Mal stands at the opposite end of the tower, the unconscious body of the boy she had fallen on laying at her feet. (So, two down.) She ducks as a rusted sword cuts over her head. 

Carlos has his knife in a reverse grip as he fights a boy with a crowbar, being steadily backed up closer to Mal. 

That means— 

There’s a cackle from behind her and Evie whips around in time to raise her knife, barely blocking the sharp, curved blade of Ginny Gothel’s scythe heading straight for her head. The small knife only does so much to negate the momentum of the long sickle and Evie cringes as the blade slices across her cheek. 

(Mother is _not_ going to be happy about that.) 

“Guess the rumor’s true,” Ginny purrs as she takes another swing at Evie, forcing her to back away. “You’ve hit the big leagues now, huh, princess?” 

(She finds she likes the nickname much better coming from Mal.) 

“Something like that,” Evie mutters as she ducks under another swing. She has to find an opening in Ginny’s defense. “I see you’re still obsessing over towers like your mother.” 

Ginny smiles at her but Evie can see the anger in her eyes. She jumps over a slash intended for her legs. 

“What can I say?” Ginny fires back as her smile twists. “Like mother like daughter, right Evie?” 

Evie feels the cold wave of fear wash over her as her doubts begin to take root again. 

(Manipulative, untrustworthy, poison—) 

A small cry escapes Evie’s lips as the scythe slashes a gash in her upper arm. She hears the thud of a body hitting the ground behind her and prays it isn’t one of her (frien—) allies. 

Evie can’t catch Ginny’s curved blade on her knife like she could a sword. Instead, she turns and runs to the nearest wall and begins to climb the wooden scaffolding. If she can just get far enough to be able to throw her knife— 

A hand wraps around her ankle and yanks Evie to the ground. The wind is knocked out of her as her body slams into the floor, her hands barely coming up in time to shield her face. 

Everything is blurry again and Evie feels more than sees the blow coming. Her instincts kick in and she rolls hastily to her right as the scythe comes down, clashing against the ground where her head had just been. 

She springs to her feet as her vision clears and she backtracks. Over Ginny’s shoulder, Evie can spot Mal fighting hand-to-hand combat with the opposing gang member whose sword she must have disarmed. The purple-haired girl’s head snaps to the side as she’s punched in the face, spitting blood from her mouth onto the ground. 

Ginny takes another swing at Evie, forcing her to dive to the side. She pants as she rolls into a crouch, feeling the cold brick wall at her back. She’s cornered. 

“Have fun in hell, princess,” Ginny taunts as she raises her scythe in an arc above her head. 

Evie takes in a deep breath. (Probably the last one she’ll take in a while.) 

“Hey!” 

Evie’s eyes widen at the voice. 

“F-find your own nickname.” 

Ginny whirls around and Mal’s fist connects with her face, sending her stumbling back towards Evie. 

(Gotcha.) 

She lets her knife fly and it buries itself into the back of Ginny’s calf behind her shin. 

(That’s for Jay.) 

The girl shrieks as her scythe clambers to the floor. Mal gives Evie an impressed look as she crosses her arms against her chest, shooting Ginny an intimidating glare. Evie stalks forward, ripping the knife from Ginny’s leg as the girl lets out a noise of pain. 

Evie whips Ginny around, holding the blade to her neck. Despite her pained grimace, Ginny still laughs, smiling at Evie with bloodstained teeth. 

“Do it,” she urges as her smile twists. “You know you want to.” 

“You deserve it,” Evie growls as she presses the knife further against Ginny’s skin. “We both know you deserve it.” 

Ginny laughs again and Evie clenches her teeth as her knuckles turn white. With a frustrated sigh she removes the knife from the other girl’s throat before swiftly bashing the hilt into her temple, knocking her unconscious. 

Mal flashes Evie a concerned look but she is already turning away, spinning towards Carlos as he lands a solid punch to his opponent’s nose. There’s a loud cracking noise and the other boy drops to the floor. 

Her attention shifts to Jay, who is still fighting the girl with blonde hair. Jay brings his knife up to block as the girl brings her own blade down towards his head. Evie doesn’t hesitate. She flicks her wrist and sends her knife flying. It buries itself in the girl’s shoulder and she yelps, dropping her weapon. Mal sneaks up behind her and kicks in the back of her leg. As she falls to her knees, Jay lands a savage blow to her head, and the girl sinks to the ground. 

The sudden silence is a stark contrast to the chaos of a few seconds ago. Evie’s shoulders slump and she lets out a sigh of relief as heavy breathing echoes in the clocktower. Everyone is frozen in place as Evie takes in the scene, realizing that the others are doing the same. 

Suddenly a blur of black, white, and red is barreling towards her. Evie lets out a laugh as Carlos throws his arms around her. Tears are forming in her eyes and she can feel something wet on her shoulder where Carlos’s face is buried. 

“You’re staying?” Carlos whispers, only loud enough for Evie to hear. His voice is filled with disbelief, but it’s hopeful. 

“I am, Carlos. I’m not going anywhere,” Evie chokes back, squeezing the younger boy tighter in her arms. 

She feels Carlos’s body shudder in her arms and lets him hide his crying face in her shoulder for a little while longer. 

(He’s always been her rock, now she can be his.) 

They stay like that for a moment, two broken kids finding solace in one another, until Carlos sniffles and pulls back. He meets Evie’s eyes and gives her a watery smile, which she returns. 

A pained grunt catches their attention and Evie’s eyes shift as Carlos turns around. Jay is slumped against the wall, beginning to slide to the ground as the fight goes out of him. Mal stands in front of him, trying to slow his descent as she lowers him to the floor as gently as she can. 

Evie and Carlos rush over to the pair. Evie’s stomach twists as she takes in Jay’s leg. His pants cover most of the damage, but Evie can see the dark stain of blood seeping through the fabric around the white tip of an exposed bone. She kneels next to Jay, hesitantly hovering her hands over his shin. 

“Hey, Evie. Good to see you,” Jay says casually, giving her a smile despite the pain on his face. Evie lets out a watery laugh before throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. The position is awkward, but Jay accepts immediately, wrapping his own arms around her. 

She pulls away and flashes Jay what she hopes is an encouraging smile. 

“Good to see you too, Jay,” Evie says sincerely. She shares a look with him, hopefully conveying all of her emotions. Jay’s eyes soften as he nods to her. They’ll talk later. 

(They’ve always been good at silent understanding.) 

Evie’s attention shifts to Mal as the other girl begins to speak, “We have to get out of here. Sooner or later, the rest of Ginny’s gang is going to flood this place.” 

Carlos makes a noise of agreement. 

“It’s dark out, we’ll have a decent cover,” his eyes turn mischievous as he looks at Mal. “You know, dark meaning after sundown.” 

Mal sticks her tongue out at him before quipping back, “Ha-ha, very funny. We’ll t-talk about that later, okay? We’ve got bigger problems.” 

Carlos’s eyes sober as he nods, turning his attention to Jay. 

“We’ll have to set it,” he says grimly. 

Jay grits his teeth and shakes his head, “Yeah, but not here. We don’t have time. Do it at the hideout.”

Carlos sighs before glancing to Mal for guidance. She bites her lip and Evie cringes as a few more drops of blood spill from the split. Mal doesn’t seem to notice. 

As Mal thinks, Evie uses the still moment to take in the state of her (not friends) companions. 

Jay’s leg is the most severe wound between the four of them. Considering they were ambushed and outnumbered, Evie isn’t sure whether to be grateful or not. Part of her knows how wrong it is that they've gotten so used to pain that they're relieved when it isn’t life-threatening. 

(The other part doesn’t know any better.) 

Other than his broken shin and a shallow cut across his jaw, Jay seems to be in good shape. Carlos must have taken the lead as Evie and Mal were trying to reach the ground floor. 

She turns to the boy in question next and lets her eyes roam over his body. There’s a gash across Carlos's forehead and his nose is bleeding but it doesn’t look broken. There’s a long cut running across his own leg but it doesn’t look deep, blood slowly trickling from the wound. He catches her looking and the corner of his lip turns up in a small, reassuring smile. Evie lets out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding as Carlos nods to her subtly. 

(He’s okay.) 

She returns his smile before her gaze settles on Mal. She’s pale and there’s still a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin despite the cold winter weather. Her cheek is bruised, likely from the punch Evie had witnessed earlier. On top of the swelling skin is line of crimson, blood smearing across her cheek from the slice. Her lip bleeds the red liquid as well. Other than that, she seems relatively okay, but Evie can see the stiff way she holds herself. Fighting can’t have helped the healing process of her burns or her back. 

“We’ll do it at the hideout,” Mal echoes Jay as her lip curls into a frown. “We can’t s-stay here much longer.” 

Carlos nods, trusting her judgment. 

“Alright,” he says before turning to Evie. “Evie, can you get on one side and I'll—” 

“Whoa,” Mal says, holding up a hand to stop Carlos. She gestures to the long cut running down the side of Carlos’s leg. “You lead the way back, I can help m-move Jay.” 

Jay scoffs from his spot on the ground but Evie can see the concern in his eyes as he speaks, “Yeah, Mal, because it’s not like you’re covered in bandages as it is—” 

“My legs s-still work genius, yours on the other hand—” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“It’s a long trip and I don’t want Carlos—” 

“Exactly,” Carlos cuts her off. “It’s at least a half hour and it’ll probably take longer because of Jay’s leg. You’re still hurt. You need to take it easy.” 

“I’m fine—” 

“Mal!” Carlos growls and his lip pulls back in a snarl. Evie almost flinches at his glare and even Mal looks taken aback. “Swallow your damn pride for once and let us do something!” 

Mal gapes at him, her mouth moving but no sound coming out as her eyebrows furrow. Evie stares at Carlos hesitantly. This isn’t like him. 

Carlos seems to recognize his outburst and sighs, running a hand over his face. His eyes lose their edge and turn a shade lighter as he returns his gaze to Mal. 

“I was just so—” he swallows thickly as he forces the word from his mouth, " _scared_ when I got back and you weren’t at the hideout.” 

Evie feels her heart crack at the vulnerable look in Carlos’s eyes. Fear is one of the forbidden emotions on the Isle. 

(Yet he trusts you all enough to admit it.) 

“All I want is for you to be okay,” Carlos says quietly. 

Mal’s eyes soften and she tilts her head slightly. 

“Okay,” she relents, equally as quiet. “I’ll guide us back.” 

Carlos gives her a small smile and Evie feels her muscles relax as the tension disappears. She looks at Carlos and he nods to her before moving to Jay’s side. Evie moves opposite of him and kneels next to Jay. 

“Déjà vu,” Carlos murmurs lowly. 

Jay flashes them an encouraging smirk but Evie sees the underlying fear in his eyes, the way he braces himself for the pain. 

She gives him an apologetic look as she slings his arm over her shoulder. 

“On three?” Evie asks. 

“On three,” Carlos echoes, slipping an arm behind Jay’s back. “One, two, three.” 

They hoist Jay to his feet and the boy instantly grimaces and makes a sound of protest. He stands on his good leg, the other bent slightly, hovering in the air. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jay says through gritted teeth. 

Evie smirks at him, rolling her eyes, and Jay winks back at her. 

They attempt to walk a few steps forward, trying to find a good rhythm. Unlike last night when the boys had been practically dragging Mal’s limp form, Jay is alert and has to hop along with their steps to avoid using his broken leg. 

Once they find the right pace, Evie turns her attention to Mal. There are spots of blood soaking through her bandages and Evie opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Getting Mal to back down was a miracle in itself, she’s not going to push that by pointing out what the other girl would consider a weakness. 

Instead, Evie locks eyes with her and says, “Lead the way.” 


End file.
